When now isn't enough
by Mah'alleinir
Summary: One of Tony's new machines doesn't work properly, because it certainly wasn't built to burn a good portion of his arm, and it really shouldn't have been able to send him back in time... now, if only he could figure out what went wrong, maybe he wouldn't be screwed... Time Travel fic, rated T for language, mostly. Might change later. (mostly movie-verse)
1. When thoughts only give you trouble

**Author's note: (fixed first chapter)**

** Ah, OK. First little attempt here to put the pieces and bit of a half formed story together from my mind to the paper... As a warning before too much is written here, I apologize in advance if there are any spelling mistakes or whatnot, this is an old laptop I haven't used in many years, usually written between the hour 2 and 5 am. I'll try to watch it, though, best I can.**

** This will be slightly AU, Tony isn't with Pepper, other that that, how will come up in second, maybe third chapter. Will eventually turn into Stony, sorry if you're not into that. Don't read it if it'll bug you. Common sense can, in fact, be employed on the Internet, shocking, I know.**

** Sorry if this first chapter is a little angsty, didn't mean for this story to be, but the song I'm listening to, the massive amount of coffee, and the time of ni...morning, I suppose has made it more so than it should be, but I'm in the mood to write, and this is the only plot in my head, so it'll have to do. Now:**

_"I'm waking up to ash and dust, I wipe my brow and I sweat my rust." _Radioactive by Imagine Dragons

* * *

People were an enigma: As much as Tony Stark absolutely hated that fact, it remained. It was one of the few things that he had never fully understood in his life. The minds of different people. They were to varied, there was no pattern.

There was something about each person he had ever met that was just slightly different from the last. Motives, Fears, Prejudices, even Wants, those rarely changed from person to person, and could be categorized accordingly. What made these things impossible for him to truly understand was that everyone's ideas about exactly what those things meant, and their reasoning behind them that were never the same. And some nights, when he tried to sleep, he agonized over it.

The thing was, he knew exactly that he would never really understand any persons mind other than his own. His brain just seemed to have trouble accepting that little fact.

So, he did what any normal person might do: he lied to himself, he threw on his mask, and he bluffed the fact that he didn't understand. _' of course I know exactly what you want. You want me. And why wouldn't you. Of course I understand your fears, only an incompetent moron wouldn't understand why you chose to do exactly what you did when you did it. And do I look like an idiot? Of course not. I'm Tony Stark. I always know.' _

And the strangest thing about it, was it actually _worked._

These people saw nothing wrong with the way he reacted to anything, because they expected him to understand it. Sometimes, he even managed to fool himself into thinking that he was actually that charismatic, that he was personable. Maybe even that people wanted him for his own reasons. When he realized that he did this, he always felt sick. He always felt his shame rush to the forefront of his mind. And then he drank. A lot. Enough to allow himself to push his inadequacy to back to its place, lurking under layers of carefully mechanical and mathematical thoughts that jumbled together somehow in the organized chaos that made one of the most brilliant, clever, and inventive minds in existence.

And after he drank, he inevitably ended up, the morning after, huddled in front of one of his many desks, safely in the confines and solitude of his lab, fiddling with some device or another. Which was where he was to be found at that moment.

The week after the Avengers Initiative had been put into effect, and the Chitauri threat has been dealt with, had been a blur of colour, noise and alcohol. The alcohol was really the easiest thing to focus on when he tried to think back about what had happened.

He had never felt so horribly self-hateful as he had when he'd spoken with Captain America on the heli-carrier, never so sick with himself. Initially, he had felt a pure, white-hot anger as the Captain, the one person he'd looked up to his entire life, the one person he might actually understand, treated him with such mistrust. He'd snapped at him.

He'd admit, only to himself, mind, that he really shouldn't have let his anger out on the Captain. It wasn't his fault that he'd been wrong again when it came to understanding another human being. But then Cap had snapped back, further throwing Tony for a loop.

He'd felt his mind unravel, and allowed his instinct to try and push the man into a fight take over. The second the carrier had taken a jarring hit that threw him to the floor, and Steve had looked at him with genuine worry, his mind seemed to snap back to him. And he fled.

He ran through the chaotic halls to the one place in the world he could shed who he was, where he could stop caring, stop pretending he didn't care, where he could let someone else think for him. Where he could become someone else. Something else, something better.

A cold, yet gentle fog had covered his mind, wrapping around his head as the equally cold metal suit wrapped around his body. He tucked what was Tony into a dark corner of his mind, and flew, relying on Jarvis to do his thinking for him.

He and Steve had worked surprisingly well as he got the engine back into a semi-operable position, though it was clear Steve has trouble understanding most of what Tony said. He did everything that Tony told him to do immediately, only asking for a simpler explanation, one he could utilize when he was wrist deep in what needed to be done. So it came as a surprise when he asked him to pull the lever once the engine was holding its own that it was not done. Only a crackling "I'm gonna need a minute here," into his ear. He began to panic. Only a little.

When Cap said minute, usually it meant that it would have to wait a few more seconds, as he wasn't as close to it as he should have been. His panic escalated quickly, however, when he felt the pressure of the metal on his hands lessen.

"Lever. Now.." his hands left the metal completely, and he felt the giant blade at his back getting closer. Ironman managed to turn what should have been a terrified wail of terror into a soft "uh-oh." as the force of the rotors combined with that bitch gravity and it tore him under. He'd been sure that was his end. Fitting, seeing as it was his own inadequacy for understanding people who had betrayed him to his death.

Then hope and new fear blossomed in his mind as the rotors hesitated enough to throw him out of its workings, and he was now falling to his doom instead of being torn apart by it.

He quickly forced his repulsors online enough for him to assess that he needed to get on solid ground... or in this case, metal, as of two minutes ago. They sputtered and sparked, cutting out in painful spurts as he forced his way through the air to where he could land. He felt even more sick when he saw the dark-clad man that was attacking Steve, who had ignored the fact that he was in trouble in order to pull the lever. _'it wasn't Cap's fault... and you dared to question him. Good job, jackass.' _ he thought angrily at himself as he stared at the dark inner-plating of his dead suit.

He was sure that is what had happened. He might not be able to fill in certain blanks with people, but what had happened in a chunk of time that he was directly related to, it was hardly a problem to formulate a rough idea.

He never said anything to Steve, and his Captain never said anything to him about it. He wasn't sure what he made of that. Too many variables, each as likely as the next, given the random mix of justifications that the human mind was able to come up with. The foremost level of his mind went completely blank as they were told that Coulson had been murdered.

His mind skimmed over what fury had to say after that, catching only tiny tidbits as they fell through to the more rational, still working parts of his brain, words falling as if they were bits of sand in a sieve. As he understood the word "hero," he stood and walked away from the table.

"He died, still believing in heroes." his mind screamed at him. He'd died believing in heroes. Of course he had. He _was _a hero. A complete idiot who had been standing where he shouldn't have been., in a war that should have been handled by others, who were too busy doing things like messing with an engine. On a base level, he understood why he'd had to get away from fury, away from his burning words. Coulson had spent time with Tony.

He'd thought that Iron Man was a _hero_... a hero he'd believed in. and he'd failed. He understood that what the Captain had said before had been all too accurate. He was no Hero.

He stared out over what once was the Hulk's cell, ignoring the disgustingly pristine metal of the walls and the floors. A hero had died here, not 20 minutes ago. This place should not be so clean. He'd been so caught up in his own head that he felt he jumped a foot when Steve's serene voice sounded into the room, soft and warm as could be imagined by a young Tony, hoping against hope that he'd be able to know what The Captain had been like, before he'd truly understood that he was gone, and his father was stuck with him.

"Was he married?" Steve's blue eyes seemed to bore a hole into his mind, but he managed to shake his head gently, as if the man was not effecting him at all.

"There was..a cellist, I think.." Steve nodded, as if completely unaware of what those eyes were doing to him.

"He was a good man.." this time Tony snapped for an entirely different reason. Because of course Captain America would see the best in the agent. Or perhaps had just not known him long enough to know that maybe he hadn't been such a great man. That he'd hit it dead in the black though, that this man, the legend, was able to do the one thing that Tony had never been able to, to _understand_ this man after so short of time. Whatever the reason, Tony cut of whatever he'd been about to say with a snort.

"He was an idiot." Something hard came into the Captains eyes, and they left Tony's beaten form. "He should have waited."

"sometimes there isn't a way out, Tony." his eyes softened again as he read something un-readable in the way Tony stood. " Is this the first time you've lost a soldier?"

Memories of Afghanistan, a dark cave and pain flooded into his system quickly before he shoved them away, blacking them in their own small cell in the depths of his mind to be buried again. His mouth moved before he had time to think. "We are _not_ soldiers." his shock at his own words must have shown, because his words were largely ignored. For that he was grateful.

The moment that he'd been told that a nuke was heading for them, he'd decided something. A half a dozen bits of idea formed a rough plan in his mind. He was no hero. But he was human. Maybe, just maybe, he could pull something off that would confuse the people that mattered the most to him in a long time, a half-assed mix of super-heroes and assassins, confuse them as much as they confused him, make them question what was going through him mind.

_"I can close it!" _Natasha's voice was raspy, tired, but that amazed relief that it held almost made him question his plan.

_"Do it." _the Captain's voice sounded confused as it was, as if he really didn't think he should have to tell her that. All doubts in Tony's mind were washed away. His mind grasped the idea, and curled itself around it.

"No. Don't..." he sent himself zooming out over the ocean at speeds the Chitauri tried, and failed to follow.

_"Stark, those things are still coming though.."_ Tony almost restrained from smirking to himself. Almost. Ah, who was he kidding. He didn't even try to hold it back.

" I got a nuke coming in, aimed for Manhattan. And I know _ just_ where to put it." there was a pained silence over the radio that actually whipped the smile from his face, and he felt his heart drop a little as the silence deafened him.

"_... you know that's a one-way trip."_ It wasn't a question. The voice wasn't shocked. It sounded dead. He turned off communication, and forced himself to follow through with his plan. He felt himself let go of the missile once through the gate-way, feeling oddly detached from himself. He felt his body struggle for air as his suits life-support systems gave out, forcing himself to watch as the giant ship blew up in front of him. Then he allowed his eyes to close, his final thought as the force blasted him back the way he'd come, 'At least I did that right... at least they never understood me either.'

Then he'd woken up.

Now, 8 days later, he sat in the cool, metal-covered external making of his own mind, one hand supporting his head, idly messing around with a small ring of wire, metal and power, trying to work around his hang-over and figure out what was missing from his equation. He'd been working on this for 5 days, two of which he'd been plastered, thus this ridiculous idea.

When would he ever need to be able to _teleport, _after all? '_oh yeah,'_ he thought sourly to himself, restraining his own voice only to commands for his robots as they attempted to help him. _'as an apology to my star spangled captain. Why I thought that was a good idea is even more of a mystery than how I managed any sort of coherent thought, even if I cant remember having one."_

He'd finally given up on letting Dummy try to help, and set him to making coffee, and keeping Tony's mug full. Which, of course, resulted in two broken coffee pots and puddles of perfectly ruined caffeine leading from his sink to his current desk.

He grinned a bit crazily as he finished with the last of the modifications, and set the bracelet down. "maybe this time, you'll actually work..."

He downed his current cup of coffee, not even noticing the way it burnt its way down this tongue and throat as he tossed the empty cup back onto the table, and slid the bracelet on. Taking a deep breath, he tried not to think as he activated it.

It glowed, golden, and perfect for a moment, and his mind shouted triumph, before the light turned red, and the device melted, blasting out in a pool of explosion. When the smoke cleared, half of the melted device clung to the table... the other half, as well as the genius, was nowhere to be found.

Tony's mind was muggy, and his body was sore. A searing pain on his wrist took precedence over his other pains, however, as he cracked a blood-shot caramel coloured eye at his burning limb. A mess of wires and metal clung to his skin, slowly sizzling away, giving the air around him the sent of burning flesh.

He forced his eyes to look around, trying to block out the sun with his good hand. He was on dirt. Odd. His tower didn't have dirt in it... glancing around, he realized he was on a small mound of dirt outside of a rather large city. It looked so... old. But something about it felt... familiar. The lined of the building, it almost felt like...

as soon as he realized where the city reminded him of, he let out a long, pained string of curses that anyone in that city would have been horrified to hear...

* * *

**Note: Went back and edited that chapter a bit. To the new readers, who never saw the first version of this: Be thankful. The paragraphs were longs as shit, and it was hard to read it. That style changed right quick, after it was pointed out to me, but I only just now got around to fixing it. Sorry it took so damn long.**


	2. When heart meets luck

**Thank you, everyone for your reviews, follows and favorites. You have no idea how stupidly giddy it makes me. So really, thank you, people, for reading my story and finding enjoyment from it... half of this story was written before I slept, and therefore I hope this next installment of the story is not too mismatched.**

** And just quickly, I don't mean to offend anyone with the whole "God" stuff here, I throw it in because Steve was raised Irish-catholic, and seeing as I am agnostic, I don't exactly get what the thought process of a catholic thinking about god might be.**

**OK, seriously, this chapter will focus mostly on Steve pre-serum. And like I said, it is a little Au.**

"_Nobody told her she's lose in the first round, the last fight was fixed from the start" _Hollywood Died, by Yellowcard.

* * *

Life had never been easy for many people. Before, it had been easier, but here, in the slums of New York, it was a living hell. But though everyone was poor, here, scraping for whatever jobs they could get their hands on, many of these people at least had love in their lives.

Most didn't appreciate the face, seeing as it had always been their, in the form of family and friends that tried to help each other. Steve Rogers had always had the love of his mother, Sarah and his best friend, Bucky. He knew, deep down, that he had the love of his father, though he had no memory of the man, there here pictured of Joseph Rogers.

His mother never told him what happened to him, only that he was gone. When he was younger, sick in bed, he's ask Sarah "When will Dad be home?" or " where has he gone, mama?" and she would just pet his hair as silent tears ran down her face, shaking her head.

When he was a little older, he learned that his father had joined the army, and died almost immediately after being sent overseas. Steve could only conclude from this that Joseph had been a brave man, a good man. From the day he found out, his dream became to be like his father, to be a soldier who was not afraid to serve his country and his loved ones.

Sadly, no one believed in his dream. They never even tried to make him thing that they did. He was, after all, a very sickly, suffering from a massive amount of conditions that made doctors predict that he would not live past the age of 6. somehow, he managed to.

"It's not Gods will that you are a soldier, honey. If it were, he would have built you for it. He has something different planned for you." was basically all his mother would ever say on the subject. Bucky just shrugged, and told him he was a better artist, anyway.

He knew that he could hate them for it, for not believing in him, but he simply didn't have the heart to. His mother worked so hard to pay for his medication, and Bucky protected him from bigger boys who always tried to beat on Steve.

Somehow, they'd struggled up through the depression, clinging together with love. Steve and Bucky getting whatever odd jobs they could when school allowed, Bucky usually working small construction projects, Steve for the paper, sometimes they put his drawings in, other times he would run slowly around the city to deliver them.

He was 17 when his world had crashed down around him. They'd always said that he'd be dead soon, that he wouldn't make it, so he never found it fair when pneumonia took his mother so greedily from him. His mother would have said that it was per-destined for her, that it was Gods plan, but Steve still didn't find it fair.

Why would God give two healthy, good parents a sickly child, only to have one eaten when the Monster of war hungered and fed, and the other die of an illness that had almost taken her child years before?

Maybe he'd done something to anger him, perhaps it was just as his mother said, that it was just meant to be. But he felt so alone. And as soon as Bucky turned 18, he left him too, off to Basic training. And Steve _would_ follow his friend, no matter what.

He would save the people who still had family here, he _would_ have his best friends back. And anyone who thought differently be damned. He had nothing to lose now that wasn't already risked. He would show that he was just as brave, just as useful as his father had been. It was, after all, the right thing to do.

If nothing else, Steve would always do what was right.

Not right as dictated by society, society was ruled by the rich, the bullies, the people who decided that a man was cursed if he fell in love with another man, that they could even be killed for it. The people who put the poorest and sickest of people in the worst predicaments. True, there was good in much of society, but he was always one to trust his heart, what it said was right, above anything else. As weak as his heart was, he knew just how strong he was. He knew that his heart would always be his companion, always be his guide.

The only thing was, he kept running into problems, even once he was eighteen, officially legal to join the army. They didn't want him, was the main problem. He was too thin, to small, too sick. His first attempt, he got 4-F. Rejected due to medical issues.

When he had tried to persuade them that they'd made the wrong call, they'd picked him up, and put him outside. Maybe he should have given up. Maybe God did have a different plan for him. But Steve was always one to listen to his heart, and his heart told him that joining the army was the right thing to do. So he didn't quit. He did the one thing that he hated doing all of his life. He lied.

He went to recruiting station after station, and he lied about where he was from. Who his parents were, hoping beyond hope that one of these places would ignore his medical problems, and give him a chance. It usually led to them laughing him away. Sometimes it led to getting in fights he had no hope of winning.

But it never ended in two thing that he desperately hoped it would, the first being to get recruited, to be accepted into the ranks of the finest military in his eyes. The other, a small corner of his mind hoped he'd get caught, so that he wouldn't have to lie anymore. But as long as it kept him going, he knew that he would have to keep on doing it. Just because this wasn't easy was no reason he'd ever quit for. It just made it worth the trouble.

The day that Bucky had showed up in that alley, he was surprised and elated. He had not known that he'd gotten back from his training... they hadn't written to one another in that time for two reasons: the money it took to mail letters was just not practical in the great depression, and Bucky had not wanted any distractions from his training, or he might lose his nerve, as countless others had.

Steve took in the three strips decorating his friend's shoulder for a few seconds a before his eyes drifted down to what he held in his hand. "you get your orders?" he felt his heart sink a little.

"Sergeant James Barns, 107th infantry division, shipping out for Germany in the morning." Bucky smirked a little bit, but not cruelly. Just tired.

Steve's mind was fuzzy as Bucky went on about girls, and then sketched to a halt when he realized that Bucky had set him up on a date. He wanted to panic, wanted to scream. But not even Bucky knew how messed up he was, so he tried to say, as pleasantly as he could manage, " What did you tell her about me?"

Seeing as Bucky was, well, Bucky, he failed to pick up the slight panic that etched its way into his voice "Only the good stuff." he winked at him, and led him out of the alley, trying to talk to lighter things than him shipping off. He was just glad that he'd long ago gotten over any sort of crush he'd had on Bucky. It would be impossible to keep the truth from him then.

Later that night, lurking behind his best friend and the two girls, they wandered into the Future. Or, rather, what the famous Howard Stark saw for the future. The man was known to be both good-looking and clever, but that didn't prepare him when he actually saw the man.

Standing up on that stage, next to an expensive car, it was obvious that the man wasn't very tall, yet Steve knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that if there had been no stage, it would have felt as if he towered over everybody else.

Confidence poured off of him in waves. His dark hair was plastered back against his skull, and his melted-chocolate eyes scanned the crowd calmly, waving his perfectly tanned hand towards them, beckoning them closer. He was the most beautiful man that Steve had ever seen. To hide the way he stared, he quickly offered his date some of his popcorn.

Then Howard Stark, the world-famous inventor, began talking about his car. His _flying_ car, and Steve watched with fascination, distracted only when the car's hover-systems failed, sending the car back down to earth, and Howard muttered loudly "I did say a few years, didn't I?" his attention had gone to the fairs recruitment offices. Without a glance at his friends or their dates, he made his way towards it.

His week of training for the experiment had been pure hell. There was no way other than that for him to put it into words. He was sore all the time, being forced to eat hot food as quickly as he could, with a spoon so that he wouldn't end up stabbing himself in the face while shoveling it in. the one time he'd been stuck with a fork, he did just that, actually.

Then, they were worked so hard that it wasn't uncommon for any one of them (most often Steve, of course) to lose the meal. He couldn't help but thinking that maybe this was his punishment from God for trying so hard to do something that he obviously wasn't made for. The best days were those they were allowed to sit at the Range for hours at a time, shooting, staying hydrated, and shooting some more.

If there ever went anything wrong with one of the recruits, the answer the Sergeant in charge gave was to 'drink water, and put led down range.'

He wasn't the best shot in the platoon, but luckily he wasn't the worst. The five worst had been disqualified for the experiment, after all. He expected that the best shot would be the one they took.

So, he was immensely surprised when the doctor chose him. Pleased, of course, but shocked. After that, the rest of his platoon was sent of to complete their basic training, and he was sent to New York, where in a few more weeks, the experiment would be held. For now, he was placed in a lab, having scientists of all sorts drawing blood and calculating. Apparently, they needed to adjust the serum to match his body perfectly, or it wouldn't work right.

And that was how he ended up in a lab, being talked to calmly by Howard Stark.

* * *

**Sorry that this chapter wasn't as long as the last, I really couldn't think of a way to spread it out more than it already was. I know that it doesn't quite match up with the movie at some points, and the military parts are simply based on my own experiences, though I'm not sure if it is quite the same today as it was in the great depression. Doubtful, but still, it'll be good enough.**

**I do hope that the characters weren't too OC, but Steve is harder at some points to write than Tony was. If I hadn't had military experiences, then I would have been fully screwed, here, I think. As always, thank you for reading, and I will try to have the next chapter up quickly.**


	3. When confusion is met with silence

** Well, on to chapter 3. It will probably end up a bit longer than the last one. **

** This chapter will be going back to whats happening with Tony, Which is nice... I understand and write him better than Steve, I think. The latter, I understand parts of how he works, but other things I just question. **

** At any rate, a short break from the last chapter, and a new cup of coffee and I'm silly enough to begin writing the next chapter. At least if this one is mismatched, it'll be because Steve and Tony are rather different characters.**

**Now, this is the chapter that it will hopefully begin getting more interesting. Also, this will probably be the only chapter where things happen in both of their Pov, after this, I will try not to repeat scenes together.**

"_You cast a spell on me, and hit me like the sky fell on me." _Glad You Came by The Wanted

* * *

For some time, Tony just sat, hands covering his eyes, trying to force back the pain for his wrist. Unfortunately, that just seemed to make his headache much more prominent, which led him to forget to block the pain coming from his wrist.

It was a rather vicious cycle to be caught in.

So, when two small boys, no older than 12 saw him sitting there, and came up to him and in anxious voices that just irritated his head, asking "Hey, mister, are you OK?" he didn't even feel the slightest amount to remorse as his lips pulled back into a snarl and he growled "Beat it." in a rather threatening voice. They didn't hesitate, the bolted, stumbling over themselves to get away from him. If he hadn't been in so much pain, he would have smirked to himself.

It was nearly 15 minutes later that he was interrupted from his misery again, this time by a pair of policemen that had probably been sent by the children. At least these people he could use.

"Sir, I must ask you to... holy shit, are you alright!?" the first one actually began to step towards him as he noticed the burning wound that surrounded his arm. The other one looked slightly sick and muttered under his breath, "Damn, those brats weren't kidding.."

Forcing himself to look up at the officers, he actually did smirk a little at the horror on their faces.

These two wouldn't last one hour as engineers. After all, it was painful, yet hardly the worst wound he'd ever gotten from an experiment.

The humming vibration in his chest proved that much.

"Perfectly fine, officers. Just an experiment gone wrong, it would seem." Dropping his voice as well as his eyes, he muttered under his breath, "It almost worked... did work, a little. Maybe I just flooded it with too much power? Need to re-enforce the wiring, recalibrate power output ratio, try a different metal, maybe.."

He was cut off by the officer clearing his throat, and his eyes snapped back up to him. He was offering his hand to help him up.

There was something slightly... off about the uniform, but in his current state of mind, Tony couldn't find it in himself to figure out what exactly that was. He sigh, and took the offered hand with his un-injured arm, and let himself be hoisted up by the officer. As he let the mans wrist go, he rubbed it, as if Tony had had too tight of a grip. Damn. He muttered a soft apology, which made the officer laugh.

"Not you're fault sir, I was just taken by surprise, is all. Didn't expect that sort of strength from sucha little fella." his eye twitched slightly, but he let the subject drop, for once not wanted to argue with someone. Can we take you anywhere, sir?" genuine concern crept into the mans voice, and Tony almost stared at the man. Before blinking hard, snapping himself out of it.

"As a matter of fact, yes. I need to get back to Stark Tower. I wouldn't ask, but I don't exactly have my suit with me..." confusion filled both of their eyes, and silence filled the tense air. The two cops shared a glance, and that was surprisingly easy to read. _'is this guy crazy?'_

"I'm sorry, sir, but the is no, uh, what you call 'Stark Tower.' maybe you hit your head when that happened?" He looked pointedly at Tony's wrist. " Do you know where you are, sir?"

Tony glanced around again. "New York, yeah? From the looks of it, not the best side of town." the officers practically sighed with relief.

" good. I was worried maybe you weren't aware. I don't know of any Stark Tower, but there does happen to be a Stark in town. Is he a relative or something?" that made Tony's eyes pop open in shock. He didn't have any relatives... maybe just a similar name? Or maybe they were talking about him. He relaxed a bit. Yeah, of course they meant him. He put on his best all-knowing smirk and simply answered

"Yeah, or something." they looked like they wanted to ask more, but wisely kept their mouths shut as they led him down the hill and to their car. Damn, the city must be underfunded in this part of town, their vehicle had to be close to 80 years old.

When the cars pulled up to a large brick building, and the officers got out, helping him out, he was confused. Must have shown on his face because one officer muttered "It's where Stark is working, at the moment." they tried to lead him into the building, but were all stopped by two large men with the letters MP stamped across their chests.

"Sorry, can't let anyone in right now." his voice was gruff, almost bored, but stern. The officers almost took a step back

"One of Stark's relatives. Guy nearly managed to blow himself up it seems. Would be best if they were re-united, and he was taken care of, if possible." Tony just gave the officer a look. At least the man had the grace to look ashamed.

"A relative, huh?" the man looked bored again, not too concerned. "fine, come with me, sir, we'll take you to Mr. Stark." The hair on the back of Tony's neck stood on end. He'd never worked here... what kind of scam was this?

He tried to say no, he'd find his way home one his own, thank you very much, but they didn't give him a chance, as the policemen gave him an encouraging smile, and the two huge men started walking inside, giving him an expecting look. _'damn, if I try to run, these guys will probably rip me apart, limb by limb...might as well go along with it. After all, if something bad does happen, Fury'll send someone after me.'_ he shrugged and followed the men with what he hoped seemed to be calm certainty.

"So, what's you're name, sir?" The man shouldn't be looking so damned bored... all the same, he answered easily enough,

"Tony." all he got in response was a grunt. Tony had to restrain himself from growling at him.

When they entered a room filled with technology and people, Tony almost relaxed, glancing around quickly. Damn, this stuff was _ancient_. Then his eyes caught a man who stood in front of a desk, and their eyes met. He felt a surge of panic take him. There was no way... he knew those eyes all too well...but the other didn't seem to recognize him.

He'd never seen him look so... young. Then again, the last time he'd seen the man, he'd been 17, just newly graduated from MIT, but still... The Mp turned and left without a word, leaving Tony to stare in shock as Howard Stark came over and offered his hand.

"Howard. New helper, are you?" Tony's eyes hardened at his fathers arrogant tone. Eyes still locked, tony grasped his hand, probably too hard from the wince that briefly crossed his face.

"I know. Tony. And no, I'm not." He paused a moment, as both men tried to stare each other down. The others in the room must have felt the tension, ad they had stopped working, and stared at the two men in astonishment. "And if I actually managed to do what I think that I did in a drunken haze, then you are an awful parent. I need you to know that." the other man was startled into letting go of the older Stark's hand.

"Wait, what? I don't have children.." Tony shrugged it off, trying to settle his stomach. OK. No problem here. Perfectly logical. He'd simply blasted himself back in time. No need to panic. Dammit, he would _not _panic!.

Taking a calming breath, Tony just grinned at the man. "Mister, I don't know what you think you're doing here, but..." He was cut short as tony slowly started walking away from him, and around the lab.

Fascinating... he'd actually managed time travel? Well, that was new, even for him. Unfortunately, it meant he'd have to be careful, here...

"Tony" he offered distantly as his eyes scanned the room passing painfully out of date machinery, and unmemorable person after person, he hardly noticed the tiny little blond as his eyes took everything in.

Then part of his mind felt a tugging of familiarly about his facial structure. He felt his eyes jump back to where the young man stood, uncertainty and fascination sparkling in the bright blue eyes that were staring straight at him.

Even like this, Steve managed to make him feel small, insignificant. Well, he'd show those eyes. He felt his jaw unhinge slightly, and just managed to keep his closed and his jaw from dropping. Poor Steve looked like a gnawed sack of miniaturized bones. Still, he was familiar. A soft smile grew on his face, and he let himself relax slightly as he walked up to his Captain.

"Steve." he breathed gently, trying to show him how glad he was to see him in that one word. Then his more mischievous nature kicked in, and he continued. "Is that really you..? Damn you're so...Tiny!" before the boy could run, he wrapped his arms around him and lifted him off of the ground completely, squeezing him tight he felt a large grin spread itself onto his face the kid was obviously struggling for breath, so he took pity on him and set him down.

He felt words fall from his lips, but didn't really think about what he was saying, until he saw the shock and confusion in Steve's eyes

"..What?" he was tempted to poke at him, but decided against it, as he realized something. Sure, this was his Captain, ans he was familiar with him... but Steve had absolutely no idea who the hell he was. So, he toned down his grin into his normal smirk, and winked at Steve. "oh, that's right. You don't know me. Yet, anyway." Stepping away from Steve, he looked his young father dead in the eye, and saw the other man freeze. "I'm Anthony Edward Stark. And I'm your son." He felt sick and smug all at once at the look in Howard's panicked eyes. And the best thing was, he didn't have to wait two seconds before shit hit the fan.

* * *

Two Mp came in carefully, as if unsure of what they were doing. That was strange. Behind them, however, was something even more strange. A man that Steve had never seen before. Neither, by the looks of things, had Howard.

The figure that followed- as if he had every right to be there, and the MP were simply an honor guard- took long, ground devouring strides into the room. Clothed in odd-looking dark gray jeans smudged with motor oil and scattered burns, faded sneakers that Steve had never known existed and a long rather singed sleeved, thick black shirt with a design under the words that said '_**Black Sabbath.'**_

The oddest thing, the shirt made it look as it the words actually had a blue halo glowing around them. Which made no sense... shirts didn't glow.

'_maybe its just the odd art that makes it look like that' _he decided as he tore his eyes away from the uncommon clothing, and landed them instead on the man in said clothing.

Howard was handsome, he willingly gave him that. Confident, perfectly tanned skin, lovely eyes, his slicked back hair, even the mustache managed to work well on him. But this new man who strode into the workshop was breath-taking.

To be honest, they almost looked to be brothers, this new one, while a bit older than Howard, seemed to have all of his looks and more, the small, almost un-noticeable flaws in Howard's looks completely corrected. This man stood only a few inches taller than the scientist, but the difference seemed too pronounced.

His tanned skin was oddly pale, as if his body knew what perfect tone matched his skin, it simply lacked the energy to produce it. His deep brown hair was not slicked back, it was blown back, as if there were an invisible wind that held it out of his eyes, in a perfect disarray, with a few pieces of bang sweeping just so over one of his dark-rimmed caramel brown eyes.

The lower half of his face was covered gently by a short, artistically designed beard. While Howard could never be called fat, he couldn't exactly be called muscular or tones, other than his arms. The man standing before him was obviously thin even under the cloth, his movements fluid in a way that told Steve that he was all whipcord muscle. He had the build of an acrobat.

Howard may have oozed confidence, until it choked the air around him, almost visible. This man did not ooze it. He didn't even radiate it. He embodied it. He sent none of his confidence into the room, simply because there was no need for him to. It was impossible not to stare at him, to know exactly that he knew what he was doing. The air around the man practically vibrated with untold amounts of energy that made it had to stare at him standing so still for so long.

The two men stared at one another, smoldering, molten chocolate met a cool and calculating caramel.

It felt as if he were somehow caught in a fight between a candy bar.

" If I actually managed to do what I think that I did in a drunken haze, then you are an awful parent. I need you to know that."

The dark man glanced around the lab, and Steve left his heart try to skip a beat as those eyes passed over him.

Then, his eyes snapped back to him, growing slightly wider, and his lips parted, as if he were having trouble not letting his jaw drop. _"probably just wondering how such a sickly kid can still be alive'_ he thought to himself sadly. Suddenly, Tony was right in front of him and Steve jumped. _'I hardly noticed him move..." _

While he seemed to tower over everyone else in the room, he actually did over Steve, by nearly a head... but then, he was used to people being taller than he was. A small smile snuck its way onto the other mans face, and his cold eyes seemed to warm slightly.

"Steve?" Steve jumped... he hadn't told this man his name. "Is that really you? Damn, you're so...TINY!"

With an indignant squeak he was suddenly lifted into the air, and all of the breath left his lungs. He glanced down with shocked eyes to meet the shit-eating grin that was smeared on the mans face, eyes alight with mischief. All that Steve could seem to think was _'how the hell can a man so lean be so strong!?'_ as the tight arms refused to let his lungs capture any air.

He seemed to notice that the small man was turning blue, however, and he set him down. However, he made no move to apologize.

"Damn, I knew that _before_ you were small and everything, but this is ridiculous, that was early revenge for the future, just so you know, you completely deserved it, always making fun of me for how small _I_ am, I mean, shit, Steve, you should have known that one day I'd call you out on it. I should have known I would, but nooooo, Cap was the one that got to make fun of _me_ for that. I wonder, did you ever tease _dear_ old dad there" His eyes flicked to a shocked Howard for a second before he rambled on.

"No, I'm sure you did, of course you would. I... what?"

He paused as he noticed the confused look on Steve's face. Honestly, Steve was still trying to catch up to what had poured out of the mans mouth. Not because he didn't fully understand, because he didn't, but as to how that man had managed to press so many words into such a short space of time was mind-boggling.

His eyes seemed almost to spark before he spoke again. "Oh, right, you don't know me. Yet, anyway." he winked knowingly at Steve, and all that his stupid brain told him that he was allowed to do was blink blankly back up at the man. Seriously, was he pure energy, or something? The damn air was even thicker around him, nearly sparking with the energy he seemed to release.

The man stepped back slightly, and cleared his throat before forcing the huge grin he had on into a more reasonable smile, a smirk, actually. "I am Anthony Edward Stark." Howard started at the sound of his last name, and the caramel gaze turned to hold the scientist in place. "And I am your son." After that... well, Steve wasn't usually one to curse, but shit definitely hit the fan.

* * *

**Well, that chapter was actually a lot more fun to write than the last one, and hopefully was better. Something in the back of my mind is telling me that the last one wasn't exactly the best I could have done with what I did. **

** But honestly, I'm a bit too lazy at the moment to go back through it and re-do it. Maybe one day... anyway, I wrote a scene I'm sorry to say didn't fit in this chapter that I greatly enjoyed. Should be able to force it into the next one, though. As always, thank you for reading. **


	4. When shit hits the fan

**Sorry for the delay for this chapter, I truly meant to be updating more frequently, but sometimes life's just busy. Besides, all of my free time has been taken up with my final re-read of the series The Wheel of Time before the final book comes out in a few weeks. Not that I'm such a slow reader, mind, but this series has 13 1,000 pages books with countless characters, and history that you have to understand in order for them to be as great as they are, and was started 20 years ago, the original author is dead, and I have that twitchy need for the last book that makes it difficult to write, however, I am forcing myself to write this chapter, and hopefully another before it does come out. Because after, it'll be one of those where you finish reading, go on a long walk and just say "Fuuuucccckkkk." **

** Anyway, enough of that, on with the story.**

"_Would you say you were wrong and maybe someone else was kinda right?"_ Point/Counterpoint by Streetlight Manifesto

* * *

A stunned silence filled the room... for about a moment. Then it was as if every person in the room very suddenly _had_ to get _their_ voice heard, not to be bothered with the fact that it didn't exactly concern them.

"But I don't..."

"Can't be his son..."

"Someone, call the guards..."

"...is at least twice as old..."

"Madman broke in.."

Tony stood in the middle of the chaos, almost drinking it in, as well as blocking out the words. He'd long since gotten used to this sort of "discussion." Being who he was, it was a rare occasion indeed where his presence didn't spark some sort of craziness, one way or another.

His eyes Swept around around, landing only momentarily on ever furious, yelling face. Amid the sea of madness, Steve just stood there, wide blue eyes blinking at him, his mouth gaping a small amount. At least the captain was keeping his calm better than the others... Tony was both irritated by his reaction and proud of the small lad.

He shook the thought off, and wondered idly why no one had so much as moved towards him with all the yelling. As if his thought had ignited the same question in some of the others, a group was suddenly reaching towards him. His eyes snapped to the leader of the small band's, not saying a word, just stared at him, daring him to continue moving. And the man stopped, suddenly sweating at the silent threat that must be sparkling in Tonys eyes.

If the man had been from his own time, he would have realized why he'd stopped himself. No one threaten Iron Man and lived long. Tony Stark, sure. Usually, Tony Stark was too busy ignoring you, and had body guards, and could easily let idle threats slide over him. Here, though, these people didn't know who he was, what he was, and would follow through with it. Subconsciously, the man must have seen the spark of Iron Mans warning. Too bad for these people, Tony was usually pretty easy going. But they had forced out a different part of him.

His cold, threatening glance swept over the room, and left utter, stunned silence in its wake. In the sudden silence of the room, his soft, calm words seemed to ring and echo, sending shivers down the spine of every person there. "Out. I need to speak with my _dear_ father." everyone lept for the closest door to them as if he'd shouted. Steve stared to back away, and head for a door at a much more leisurely pace. Stupid calm kid. Always so damn..._calm._ Tony had seen him show more emotion to a _pop-tart_ for fuck's sake. To be fair, it was more in reaction to a God stuffing 4 of the things, still scalding hot, into his mouth and not dropping so much as a crumb, but still.

Still. This did in its own way concern Steve, too, so he quickly caught the young boys arm and gave him a quick smile that seemed to make the kid relax slightly. Damn, but this would probably be the only time he would ever be about to hold onto the Cap with one hand, and anchor him where he was, even if he'd struggled to get away. A flash of disappointment that he had not crossed his mind before he buried it under the more important matter at hand. Later, though, maybe he'd mess around with this small Steve, just because he could.

Shaking his head, he waited impatiently for the room to empty itself save the three men. Not that he had to wait long, of course, but he hated having to wait at all. Standing still in general was not something he tolerated well, but he crushed down the urge to dart around the room and find something to fiddle with. That would only do to destroy any impression of power he'd made on his father, and he intended to use ever bit that being Iron Man had ever given him. It was a pity he didn't have his suit. That would definitely shock and awe here. Oh well. No use wishing for the impossible.

Howards eyes bored into his, both taking in everything about the other, Steve standing next to Tony awkwardly. As much as it pained him, Tony stood still, silent. Refusing to break under those eyes that had mocked and haunted him though his life. Seconds ticked by, slowly becoming minutes, and Howard seemed to be getting more and more nervous as each passed in complete silence. Only Steve fidgeted, and glanced around as if looking for a way to escape the two men. Honestly Tony thought that his grip was the only thing that kept him there

Suddenly, Howard cracked, and dropped his gaze, sighing lightly before he spoke. Thankfully, in a more reasonable tone than minutes ago. Tony's head still pounded.

"What the hell do you mean that I'm your father? You have to be at least 5 years older than I am." Tony snickered, and his father snapped his mouth shut indigently.

" You do realize that flattery wont get you anywhere with me, _dad._" That that was all he'd strove for as a child was beside the point. " if I'm right, and I usually am, then you're probably about 24-25, right?" at Howards slightly shocked nod, he snorted. " then that would make me 15 years your senior in this instance." Both Howard's and Steve's eyes jumped wide and just stared at him, disbelieving. Well, if that wasn't an ego boost, nothing was. Smirking, he pretended not to notice their reactions. "As for the rest, that is in itself a little harder to explain."

He paused for a moment. He really shouldn't tell them about the future... that would probably end if screwing him over in the end, whether it would butterfly effect the future, and his life, or would simply make him look like a completely insane moron. Damn. That would mean he'd have to improvise. No sweat, he was good enough at that.

"Well, it all started a magical... wait, what day was it? Oh well, not an important part of the story. 'Twas a magical autumn evening, and most were sleeping soundly in their beds. Then, suddenly for any but a select few, gathered together by a secret organization, an army of alien beings attacked the earth. That group protected and saved the world, and came to live with me in my home, the Stark Tower." he glanced at Howard. The mans expression hadn't seemed to change. Much. Now he looked a bit confused, as well. At least he wasn't giving anything specific away. "While many of us got along, two of us... well, lets just say we exchanged harsh words, shall we?"

He wished he'd been able to stop his eyes from quickly snapping to Steve. It took all of half a second before he was staring Howard down again, but he felt Steves questioning stare burning into him. At least Howard hadn't seemed to notice.

"At any rate, I was working on a project in my lab, and seem to have made... a miscalculation." he said that sourly, his smirk becoming a grimace. To show the bewildered men that he wasn't as crazy as he sounded to be, he pushed back the sleeve covering his injured arm, having to release Steve in order to do so. Thankfully, he didn't move an inch. Well, other than to lean over to see his arm, then take a step back with a sick look on his face. Man, no one in this time could take the sight of an injury, honestly.

Howard studied it momentarily, then looked back up at him with only a small frown at the cool metal and dried blood imbedded in his arm.

Howard only looked at him for a few seconds before asking "well, how did you make this? How does it work?" He knew damn well that wasn't what the man had mean, but it was simply too good an opportunity to pass up annoying him.

"Well, obviously, it works badly. You think I like the smell of my own burning flesh?" That brought a wince, and a spark of anger into Howards eyes. " As for the _how_ of it all... I really can't tell you." now, it was his turn to wince. Howard said nothing just gave him a look that insisted he explain before he had to ask. And Tony considered it, then sighed, and continued. "Well, to be honest, I can't remember much of the first three or four days working on it. I was kind of drunk off my ass."

Howard looked thoughtful, then a small smile graced his face. "Just what every parent wants to hear.." Steve choked off a laugh behind him, and he couldn't help but give a snort of amusement himself. Who knew. At one point in time, his father hadn't been a complete and total buzz-kill.

"Well, I had had one hell of a week. And I did have good scotch. What else could I have done." it didn't mean he didn't still hate his father, just that this version wasn't quite as bad. Besides, he needed to use him.

The two Stark men nodded to one another, probably for their own reasons, but that was the end of it. Howard accepted the story. Damn, it was nice sometimes to have a scientist as a father. And a drunk, it seemed. He accepted both the time-travel theory and the 'off his ass drunk' excuse without so much as batting an eyelid. Anyone else would have been A: disappointed and B: have him locked up in some sort of mad house.

Howard turned and walked towards one of the doors, sparing only a second to glance over his shoulder and call, "We'll speak more of this later, when we're not so busy. Steve, guard him, will you? And see that a doctor looks at that arm." Before he swept out of the door.

Tony turned to Steve and smirked as he tried to hide the shock and amazement that decorated his face.

Steve cleared his throat, and in a voice that Tony knew well, almost sounding too deep for such a small frame, said "Come on, we should really get that taken care of.." he started to move towards one of the back doors as the techs came back in, looking nervously at the pair, but stopped when Tony made no move to follow him.

"In a bit. I can ignore this for a bit, I want to see what you guys are working with." With that, Tony began stalking around the room, leaving Steve to follow him around like a slightly irritated puppy. Within moments, Tony had found the huge generator that ran the place, and grinned like a child on Christmas as he dropped gracefully onto his knees, then twisted himself on his back, skillfully pushing himself under the hot machine, much to the shock of everyone in the room. A quick glance was all it took to force a disgusted look onto his face. The wiring was messy, not producing nearly as much as it should have been, and the poor thing seemed to be groaning as it forced itself to run.

"Ugh, did a retarded monkey wire this generator!?" he intentionally spoke loud enough for at least Steve to hear him. Over the sound of this metal beast, he'd almost had to shout to make himself heard.

"Actually, _I_ wired that generator." Howards voice was obviously angry now to anyone who heard it. Tony stuck his head out from under the machine just enough to arch one eyebrow at the man, and calmly said,

"Well, that explains that then." And went back to work with re-wiring, carefully covering his snickering. He heard a huff, and stomping, headed away from the generator, then a muffled laugh from Steve. Good thing the kid had kept it in until Howard was out of ear-shot... a harsh look might break him.

Smiling softly to himself, Tony worked one-handed with the machine, an easy feat for him, thankfully. He really didn't want to disturb his arm any more. Perhaps he should have let Steve take him to get it fixed up first. Oh well, too late now. At least if he was stuck here, for now, it would be fun. Maybe not for the others, of course.

_"Oh, yes. This will be fun." N_ow, if only he had some proper music...

* * *

**Well, that's all there is for this chapter, hope that you readers enjoyed and didn't find it too different from the previous chapters, like I said before, way too much WoT, so writing might be a bit off. Thank you for reading, and i'll try to get the next chapter up more quickly than this one.**


	5. When you can't run

**Originally I was going to use this song with the last chapter, but the last chapter I really wanted to do Pov of Tony, and it fits what Steve sees about Tony much better than the other way around. Well, moving on to the next chapter. Not getting these up as quickly as the first three, perhaps, but they are coming up. Actually, I have the last few chapters already written out, so I know where I'm going with this, but not completely how to get there. Of well, that's the beauty of writing: the journey to the end of a story.**

"_You're like a slow song that's starting to accelerate." _With You Around by Yellowcard.

* * *

Steve stood, sullenly watching what he could see of the man, Tony, who, according to him, was from the future. He was surprised that Howard hadn't tried to send him to a mental institution. Especially after the older man had called him out on his wiring.

Then again, even as ridiculous as it sounded, there was something in Tony's demeanor that forced you to believe him. Maybe it was the fact that he was so calm, even when the air tried to race around him, he stood so calmly, so sure. It was all but impossible not to believe a word he said. And that dangerous, silent stare he'd given, that made his throat clench, and he'd not even said a word. The soldier in him rang the warning bells loudly inside of his skull. This man was very dangerous.

Yet, he couldn't bring himself to be afraid of him, or even dislike him. He wanted to blame those coppery caramel eyes of his. They were so... captivating. He did not think that he had ever met someone so in control. Even in the madness of the room after his announcement, he was in control. A blind man could see that he seemed to thrive off of chaos. Even when Steve had thought things were about to get messy when a group decided to haul him away themselves, a simple look had stopped them.

He ran it through his mind countless times, yet it never stopped being incredible. He had to wonder if where ever he was from, maybe he was military himself. Surely no one else would be able to be that completely commanding.

Shaking the thoughts from his mind, Steve sighed again, and looked around for something to lean on. Tony seemed to completely ignore his injuries, so he doubted either of them would be moving away from the huge machine until he was satisfied that it was properly done. Which, if Steve could judge from the time Howard had spent on it, would be a while. Long enough for his legs to hurt from standing still.

The strangest thing, that Tony had undoubtedly known him. Other than the passing resemblance to Howard, he didn't remember ever so much as seeing him. Surely he would have remembered such a man. Maybe he was just too young at the time? After all, Tony had admitted to being nearly 40, even if there was no way he looked it. He didn't think so, though. If he'd been so young, Tony wouldn't have been able to recognize him... besides, he thought that even had he been too young to form memories, Tony should still stand out, if only the feeling that rolled off of him, that almost static electricity. Maybe he really was from the future.

He distantly was wondering how the Tony could even see what he was doing under there, when the burned pants and singed legs he had been staring at began to move, seeming to maneuver to pull the slim body out from under that machine, the glow in his shirt move seemed somehow brighter under the darkness, but faded back to the gentle halo of blue in the black of the shirt the second he was fully back in the light.

Not really thinking, Steve leaned down, and offered the man his hand. Tony gave it an amused glance before grasping onto it in a surprisingly gentle grip for all the strength he could feel in it. Steve tried to help him up, but Tony wouldn't allow it, it seemed. Putting his injured hand on the ground... and trying to suppress a wince, he pushed himself up more quickly than Steve could pull, using the younger man only to keep himself steady.

Steve tried to bury his irritation. It wasn't as if he were as fragile as he looked. Honestly, he had made it through his training, after all, and that was the most difficult thing I could think of doing. He'd like to see how well this man held up in a fight.

_'Would probably stare them to death.'_ he thought, smirking to himself. Then he felt awful. This man was 18 years older than him, and obviously was harder than he seemed, even at first glance. He was easily ignoring a massive mess of wire and metal burnt into his arm, and numerous burns scattered seemingly everywhere else on his body, after all.

Still, as Tony winced, he sighed, and tried to hide the wince of sympathy as he glanced at the bloody arm. He must not have done a very good job of it, however, because Tony just looked at him, a spark of amusement softening his eyes, and his voice hid a musical laughter.

"Fine, take me to this Doctor. Can't do much with this arm the way it is." This time, Steves sigh was of relief, as he pulled the older man behind him quickly, still grasping that hand with all the strength he had. He could almost feel Tony's amusement rolling off of him, but it was the only way he could be sure that he wouldn't get distracted by something else. Steve really didn't want to have to stare at the injury much longer.

As fast as he walked, close to running, he'd thought he would actually be dragging Tony. And for the first few steps, he seemed to be. But then he managed to catch up and stepped gracefully next to him, making even such a fast pace seem too slow, that graceful, sure step of his seeming to make him glide across the floor where Howard would have strode, still, it was just as powerful a movement as he'd ever seen.

When they entered the medical bay, Steve had hoped to find Dr. Erskine, but he really knew that there wasn't much hope for that. He was very busy doing more important things to be bothered with picking metal out of the arm of a man he'd never seen before.

In stead, as soon as they walked in, a horde of nurses rushed around Tony, batting their eyes, and crooning at his hurt arm, all but pushing Steve away. The only thing that kept him near to Tony, actually, was Tony suddenly grasping his arm, using considerably more strength to hold him there. He felt like a ship in the middle of a storm, only his anchor keeping him from being crushed by the water. It also made him feel even worse for what he'd thought of Tony. This man would probably make basic training into some sort of vacation.

Irrationally, Steve felt a flash of jealousy towards the girls., at least, that's what the odd feeling in the pit of his stomach seemed to be. Shaking his head, gently, and giving Tony's arm a quick tug, he motioned for the man to follow, since he couldn't very well break him out of this.

Tony frowned, not at him, thankfully, but at the nurses, and with his injured arm, made a short, but decisively shooing gesture. The girls all looked disappointed, some hurt, but they all scattered and went back to their duty as quickly as they had gathered, acting for all the world like they hadn't all just made fools of themselves.

Tony, on the other hand, glared down at his burnt arm, as if his look alone could force it to stop hurting. Steve tugged again, and when Tony looked up, he quietly nodded in the direction of one of the doctors that was largely ignoring the nurses and their sudden distraction. The other man smiled, just a slight raising of one corner of mouth, and nodded to him, and he almost felt his heart stop. Nobody should be allowed to own those eyes. They saw too far into you. It was disturbing in a way, but still rather warming.

This time, he felt a tugging on his wrist, and blinked up to realize that Tony had moved, and was now having to urge him. _'Idiot.'_ he mentally chided himself. _'he's probably in agony, and you daydream about eyes.'_

He quickly fell into step beside the taller man and tried to keep from panting and gasping in his breath as he was almost forced to jog just to keep him from pulling off his arm. By the time that they reached the man,one of the various, largely under-worked doctors on staff, one who's name-tag read: Charles McDowell, M.D.

That small piece of metal and the white lab coat was the only reason Steve even believed that he was a doctor, honestly. Steve tapped him on the shoulder, but the man just grunted and tried to wave his hand away, but Steve was having non of it. The way he looked at it, he wasn't getting paid to watch girls try to charm their way into the eyes of this man. He'd rather be watching him work. At least there he seemed relaxed, almost at home. _'Except that he's slightly too awkward around such high-tech material...'_

Insistently, he cleared his throat, and spoke before the doctor could turn around and tell him to get lost. He really didn't want to get stuck in that sea of women again, after all. "Sir, Mr. Stark wanted you to see what you can do about this. He made it seem rather urgent."

Well, it wasn't exactly a lie... this man was supposedly also named Stark, and he was obviously in pain, which made it urgent to Steve. Of course he wasn't in denial.

The curt dismissal that had probably been on the doctors lips faded away into a sigh, and he spun around, looking the two men behind him up and down. Steve hurriedly pushed Tony forward. The last thing he needed was for someone to be sticking him with needles right now.

Tony sent a slightly amused look over his shoulder at him, but quickly turned his attention back to Dr. McDowell. The doctor said nothing to the other man, and Tony just stood there, somehow towering over the man that was a good 4 inches taller than he was. He simply eyes Tony up and down a few more times before finally seeing his rather mangled arm.

His mouth twisting up in what seemed to be sympathy, he gently lifted Tony's arm, and pushed his sleeve away from the mess. Luckily, the metal imbedded in his arm only crept up his arm about 2 inches, though the bright red burns had leaked down onto his hand, and extended another 3 inches up.

The doctor studied in for a few seconds before nodding to himself, and quietly said, "I suppose we could just melt the metal off, then care for the burns after." for all that he'd appeared sympathetic, he sounded so nonchalant, like he got this type of injury in every day.

Tony just stared at him for another second, head turned slightly to one side, brows drawn close together, almost in a glare, and his mouth open just slightly, the expression screaming what he was obviously too speechless to be able to. For about a second. Then, he had no problem laying into the man.

"Seriously!? Are you really that much of an idiot?" it was the doctors turn to looks shocked this time, but he didn't manage to say anything past the shock. "Do you see this?" he pointed his finger to the metal cooling in his wrist. " DO YOU?" It was all the man seemed to be able to do to nod, the power in Tony's voice forcing him to retreat back a step. "This is a mixture of copper and titanium, which melt at 1357.039 and 1944.261 kelvin, respectively."

Steves eyes widened. How had something that hot gotten onto Tony's arm, and not managed to simply sear away all of the flesh... and bone for that matter? He doubted he'd ever know. He shook the thought from his head, as he realized that Tony was continuing chewing the man up one side and down the other.

"...really think that it would be a _good_ _idea_ to just, you know, _heat my arm up_ until the metal _melts_ _off!? _There wouldn't be any burns left to treat! My arm would be gone, by that point, for one, dissolved into a very fine ash to feed your metal fire, and second, I'd die from the pain! You should fucking know that, you're supposed to be a doctor! The human body can only take so much pain before it just dies off!"

If Tony's eyes had been cold before, they were frozen solid now, yet burning hot enough that Steve actually felt a moment of surprise when the stunned man didn't burst into flame. The doctor tried to speak, but Tony cut him off.

"No. you don't get to have any more ideas. You don't get to even respond." And the mans mouth snapped shut with an audible click, wide eyes staring like a frightened beast about to get eaten by a lion. "That's right, no comment. Now. Here's what you're going to do..."

By the time Tony had finished telling the man exactly what to do, Steve had only managed to gather enough to know that the metal would simply be cut out, then the arm stitched up and wrapped. It had been more technical than that, exacting ways to avoid so much as nicking important blood vessels, and that sort of thing, but Steve had tried to block most of the words out, feeling sick to his stomach even hearing about it.

In a very subdues, almost meek voice, McDowell told Tony that he couldn't do it very well with him wearing a long sleeved shirt, or at least with that sleeve still on the shirt. Tony looked horrified at his suggestion to cut off the sleeve, but this time, he didn't loose his temper at the man, just sighed and pulled off the shirt, careful not to rub his burnt skin more than he could.

As Steve had suspected, Tony was very well built. Tones, lean muscle covering barely visible bone bringing attention to every line that smoothly ran along the palely tan skin. As much as he would have loved to, Steve couldn't concentrate on his form. His eyes skimmed right over the numerous amount of scars that marred his acrobatic body.

Imbedded into the dead center of his chest, surrounded by white scar tissue, was what looked like a round piece of intricately carved metal that shone blue, even in the relative light of the medical bay, sending a bluish glower about five feet around him.

Both McDowell and Steve just stood there for a second, staring open-mouthed, before McDowell's rushed words filled the silence, "What the hell is that!?" Steve was just happy he could manage to close his mouth, staring into the blue glow.

Tony glanced down at it, then met the doctors eye and shrugged. "Don't like to talk about it, and don't feel like doing so now. All you need to know is that it isn't dangerous and it keeps me alive." McDowell opened his mouth as if to say something else, but again Tony cut him off, this time with a simple "Drop it." his mouth shut slowly, and he looked almost longingly at the device, before shaking his head, and began prepping to fix up Tony's arm.

Steve didn't know what to think, staring into the mystic blue glow. Truthfully, the man completely terrified him. Whether it was simply the manner in which he held himself, or the fact that he had a piece of glowing metal jutting out of his chest, with such advanced technology throbbing as it whirred happily, that it might as well be alien.

But, then, Tony was so comfortable around him, so casual, even, in his own way, so charming that it was not possible to be uncomfortable around him, or even really dislike him.

Somehow, he knew, having Tony around would be more fun than should be strictly legal. Still, as he looked up from the pulsating blue glow into Tony's amused eyes, he couldn't be sure that the fun wouldn't be worth the trouble.

* * *

**Ahhh, good. That chapter rather difficult. Wrote half of it a few days ago, and meant to get it out on Christmas, but had I had to go see family, and while over there, it managed to snow 6 inches, and on the drive home, the little Ford Escort we were driving slid into a snow bank, and had to be dug out, then jumped. So, that set me back long enough to say I had an excuse. Yet, I felt like that was cheating, so this was finished. Truly sorry if its off, I will use my excuse for that much. Anyway, thank you all for the reviews and the follows, even some favorites. Honestly, just thank you for reading. Sure a nice little ego boost every time it happens.**


	6. When you know

**I'm trying to get it so that I post a chapter weekly,but I blame my lack of an update for the past while on the Memory of Light, the epic book to end all epics, and the fact that while I have very little motivation to write this chapter, future chapters seem almost stupidly easy to write at the moment. I would like to thank all of the people who have reviewed, always gives me the smiles. **

** Meant to have this up on Tuesday, but my boyfriend decided that I should come over and help him move into a new apartment, meaning he wanted me to hang out and be silly with him since Saturday night... or, rather, Sunday morning. Depends on whether you think 2 am is the day before or not... to Thursday. So, I slept off a hangover, and when I got up, finished what was left to be written in this chapter, and uploaded as soon as I could. Enjoy.**

" _My head is on fire, but my legs are fine... after all, they are mine." _Carry On by Fun

* * *

As the "doctor" carefully sliced chunks of melted metal from him arm, Tony stared off into nothing. He wished that he had Jarvis. Or a tablet. Or anything, really that would help him get his mind off of the feel of the razor sharp knife digging into his skin, nearly to the bone. Or the searing burn of the disinfectant that was poured on after he would roughly hold a cloth on his arm to soak up the blood. Didn't these people know about painkillers, damn. He had refused to get a tattoo for a reason, after all. Well, three reasons, but the feel of knives going into you over and over again was one of them. _'guess it doesn't matter, in the end.' _he smirked to himself, trying not to let the pain show on his face. _'you'll always end up getting stabbed.' _by the look on Steve's face, he wasn't doing too good of a job keeping his face blank.

Honestly, Tony was just thankful that the device had only managed to burn into the top of his arm. If it had managed to sever any of the main arteries, or even just enough of them, he'd probably be loosing a hand right now. Maybe part of his arm, too. That would be... inconvenient to say the least.

At least Steve seemed to take this job seriously. Wow, that was probably one of the only times he'd say those words together. The guy was too damn serious about things for his taste, usually. As impossible as it seemed, like this, he seemed to be even more serious, even more focused. That, in itself, was quite a notable feat.

As he slowly studied the small man, he came to a realization: no matter how small the Captain was, even now, he had an aura of authority around him. He really had to wonder how everyone around that man wasn't jumping at every word he said. Maybe it was just that they truly couldn't see an inch past Steves height. Well, they'd truly be in for a surprise when he came into his own. Tony hoped so badly that he got to see these idiots put in their places by this small man, all while ignoring the fact that he fought to be put into his by the same person.

He only realized that he had been studying at the smaller man when his eyes met Steves shockingly blue ones, which in turn seemed to be studying his face. He stared a moment longer into his eyes before smiling at him, actually letting it reach his eyes. He was happy to see the Captain, after all. Everything else there was so strange, but at least he had him.

Steve looked startled for a moment before, almost shyly, returning the smile, his eyes happy, but more than anything, just confused. That only made Tony smile wider, and he was forced to fight back fits of laughter as the look of confusion spread from the sky blue eyes to the rest of that young face. He managed to quickly get himself back under control when McDowell's knife slipped slightly and sliced an inch of perfectly healthy flesh, and blushed heavily as he shoved a towel roughly over it to soak up the new stream of blood that had bloomed.

He didn't say anything to the man. After all, that one had been mostly his fault, and he wasn't about to bring attention to that little fact. Steve, on the other hand, glared fiercely at the already shaken man, disappointment glistening on his face.

Tony s smile returned, and he reached out with his good to grasp Steves cheek between his fingers, feeling for all the world like an old lady, and shook the mans head back and forth slightly, smile growing again as he felt Steve blush under his finger-tips, and seeing the look of shock and confusion snap back into his eyes. With a pat on his cheek, he let him go, forcing himself to be completely still, this time, as Steves mouth parted slightly, and his head cocked to one side, his golden eyebrows nearly knitted together, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

Steve like this was just so damn cute. Had he always been this fun to mess with, or was it purely a 40's Steve trait? Certainly he'd never been this shy. Right? Still staring at Steve, he felt his smile fade, and a frown taking its place. Maybe he had been... maybe they'd just been too busy getting on one another s nerves for him to have been able to tell.

Shaking his head, he forced the smile back onto his face, then turned his attention away from the other man, back to his arm. It seemed that all of the metal had come out of his arm, and was now in the process of being stitched together.

Now, he tried to concentrate on his arm, on the stitches, anything, but all he could focus on was the feeling of Steves eyes staring at him, as if his eyes were somehow burning into him. Stupid eyes, always somehow managing to see more than they should be able to.

He felt a hand rest gently on his shoulder, which immediately tensed up. Some things just grew to be habit when tortured too much, after all. He turned his head sharply to stare back at Steve, trying to get his shoulder to loosen itself, hoping that Steve didn't think that it was a reaction purely to him. He was, after all, one of the closest things he'd ever had to family, and he didn't need there to be any more hard feelings between the two of them.

Steve didn't seem to notice at all, however, his eyes brimming with sadness and what seemed to be worry.

"This, whatever it is that's going on here, must be really hard on you." That deep, compassionate voice didn't fit at all with that body, no more than the tone of it fit someone talking to _him_, of all people. People weren't compassionate to him, they were angry at him, hateful, even. "You're eyes seem so sad, even when you pretend not to care. You shouldn't be keeping emotions in like that, its not good for you."

Tony's eyes widened, just barely, before he could stop them. Interesting. Not many people hed ever been able to read him like that. Maybe he was just letting more emotion show than normal. Maybe. He smiled softly at the small man, not caring that this time, the smile didn't reach his eyes. That was more normal, anyway. "Showing emotion only lets people use and manipulate you, Cap. Trust me, its easier not to show your real emotions." his smile faltered slightly. "Which is why I owe you an apology, I suppose. A bit too early for one, perhaps, but still. In the future, I do loose my temper at you, more than I care to admit. You don't deserve that." His smile snapped back, "To be fair, though, you are good at knowing what buttons to push to get me to."

A touch of shock entered those eyes, and they widened, and Steve had to try twice before he could manage to stammer out a short "Sorry about that."

Tony smirked back. "No problem. Just expect to be snapped back at when you use that vipers tongue of yours at me." He winked broadly, "Not everyone can stand up to you, oh Captain, my Captain, but that doesn't mean that you shouldn't expect that no one will be able to." he broke off eye contact to look back at his arm to see what the sudden stinging was. Just anti-bionics and more disinfectant before a large strip of cloth could be wound around it.

"...I'm not a Captain, you know." Tony just shrugged one shoulder at that.

"Not yet, Cap. Just because you're falling behind a bit doesn't mean that I should change all of my clever, infuriating nicknames for you." All he got for a response was a soft laugh.

"...Tony?" He sounded so hesitant. So unlike himself, it was almost mind-boggling.

"Mhmm?" Staring down at the clean, white cloth being wrapped around his arm, he was still trying to ignore those damn eyes. Couldn't they take a break or something from being so intense?

"Do I have any nicknames for you?" It was his turn to laugh slightly.

"I'm not sure if it really counts as a nickname, but most people in my time call me Iron Man. Though you have come up with some pretty... unsavory words to call me. I'd rather not bring them into light just yet." He could almost feel Steves blush.

Finally, the man finished wrapping it, and quickly stood and practically ran from the two. It was almost laughable, really. Still, it felt good to be able to stand, even if his arm still throbbed angrily. He mentally told it to shut up as he stretched, all while trying not to seem to tower over Steve too much. For his own sake, of course. It was just unnatural to have such a short Captain America.

Steves hand finally left his shoulder, leaving a cold, slightly odd feeling of loss where it had been, but Steve was smiling again, at least.

"Why do they call you Iron Man?" how odd, he looked honestly interested. It was nice that he'd finally started to loosen up a bit around him, but now Tony wasn't quite sure what to do with this slightly less serious Steve. Was he normally more like this away from missions? If so, he'd have to spend more time around the man, shit.

"Because I'm a badass, Cap. Because I'm a badass. You should know that, by now." he winked at the shorter man again. Steve blushed at the language, but just shrugged. Then looked at the completely trashed shirt that Tony picked up, and sighed.

"I suppose we should find you something else to wear." Tony looked down at the shirt sadly, but was forced to agree. Too bad, it had been one of his favorites. He nodded once to Steve, and shrugged on his shirt anyway. At Steves confused glance, he rapped on the arc reactor twice with his knuckles, and Steves eyes widened in understanding, and nodded, before grabbing onto his sleeve, and tried-again-to drag him along behind him.

_'Cap always has to be in charge, I guess. Might as well let him have this one.'_

* * *

**Took longer than I thought that it would to actually finish up that chapter, even if I didn't get to where I wanted it to be. Guess I'll just have to be ok with breaking a very long chapter into two semi-shorter chapters. It's either that, or have a really long chapter even later than this one, seeing as the book I've been waiting on comes out tomorrow... so, really, sorry for such a short chapter, hopefully next one will be longer. And if this chapter, closer to the end of it, was a little bit more sad than I intended, my bad. Just trying to give Steve a little more insight into Tony without him just knowing.**

** Just a warning about next chapter, it will probably end up being split PoV, or else another in Tony's. **


	7. When you don't need to know

** Well, shit. Just, shit, man. 23 years since the beginning of these books, the third age of the Wheel of Time is finally over. Such a good book... sorry, if the result of this happens to effect my writing. I had to cut this chapter in half, again. Otherwise, it would have dwarfed every other chapter, and that early in the story, not the best thing, unless I'd planned on every chapter being as long.**

** Decided that this story will just end up being a "By deadline" type of thing for me, so if I have it done before my deadline, I'll post it then, but it will be every week on Tuesday at the latest, hopefully. **

** Also, since this scene had a bit of the movie in the end of it, I feel it's a good idea to point out the obvious, that I don't own the storyline or characters. The scenes you recognize is almost all completely from the movie.**

_"If our world falls down tomorrow, you be sure I'll be there with a net to catch the pieces falling. And i was always there." _Landing Feet First by Bayside

* * *

Steve dug through the small chest the held his clothing, trying to find anything that would actually fit Tony. He wasn't having much luck. Tony was hardly a big man, of course, but just about every shirt that Steve owned would look absolutely ridiculous stretched across his broad shoulders, and been unacceptably short on his long torso.

On the plus side, any of the clothes would have made the man look like a giant, in comparison.

But it wasn't as if he could just leave the man in his own ripped, bloody mess of a shirt, and someone who might have been a closer fit (Cue Howard, or really, anyone else in the facility) was far too busy to be bothered about a single shirt.

So, he ended up giving Tony one of his favorite shirts, his comfort shirt that was several sizes to big for either of them, short sleeved and dark gray, rather thin, but extremely soft. He'd had it for as long as he could remember, but could never remember exactly how he'd gotten it. He felt some small loss, handing it over to Tony, but it was the closest fit he had.

Tony took the shirt, and studied his face for a second before shrugging off the other, and quickly putting the new on. "Don't worry, sour puss, you'll get your shirt back."

_'Sour puss..?' _all of these nicknames were just strange, but he only gave Tony a slightly disapproving look, and murmured "Don't worry about it." Tony snorted back a fit of laughter. Maybe all of that blood loss had effected his brain in some way...

The taller man just made a face down at the shirt, silently conveying his slight disappointment that the material didn't cover the glow at all. As obvious as it was to Steve that he didn't like people seeing and staring at it, Tony didn't seem bothered by Steve doing so. Maybe it was just because he didn't ask any questions about it, no matter how badly he wanted to. As much as he wanted to know about it, he was hardly willing to risk Tony's irritation.

And he could understand that, in his own way. Steve didn't like talking about his own mothers death, after all. This was probably one of those kind of situations, with Tony. The soft glow and the implanted metal clearly wasn't something natural, and the scars surrounding it meant that it was probably a pretty painful memory to relive. But the curiosity never left his mind as he watched the man out of the corner of his eye. In the back corner of his mind, he was jealous. No one else ever would be able to make that shirt look good. He just knew it.

The thin material did absolutely nothing to hide the soft metallic glow emanating from the dead center of his chest, really. The blue seemed to spread out, and almost making the entire shirt glow. It was a strangely beautiful sight, the white-blue shining from in between weaves of deep gray. There was no way that specific colour could exist in nature. Steve wished that he had the tools and ability to draw it.

It took a moment for Steve to shake off his thoughts to realize that Tony was just staring down at him, face as blank as it had been since he'd met the man. Except, of course, when he had been trying to look amused. And it wasn't that he was bad at faking that cool laugh of him, or forcing his face into a smirk, because he really was very good at it. His eyes just never fit, looking off into the distance, as if a thousand different thoughts had swept away all of his attention. There was a spark of hope, real happiness, here or there, but always quickly overshadowed by misery.

But when he wasn't trying to force emotion onto his face, his expression drifted to where his eyes seemed to be looking, everywhere and nowhere. Howard had much the same thing, Steve had noticed. Harder to see through than Tony's, but perhaps that was because he'd had to get to know Howard before he realized what it was, where he had known what to look for at meeting Tony.

And Steve knew that it wasn't that these men didn't have emotions, quite the opposite, really. They were usually more struck by things than anyone else, even if they kept it to themselves. It was simply how they had been raised, how they'd been forced to train themselves since birth, with everyone watching them, studying them, and making a huge deal out of anything that they gave them, even if that was only a tear, or anger.

More than anything, these men were dissected as they walked, and tried to live their lives. Still, it made it very hard for Steve to read anything from either of the two Stark men.

Another thought hit him, then. He had gone from not even considering that Tony could be Howards son, or even a relative, to believing whole-heatedly that they were family, without him even noticing he'd made that transition. It was probably because of that specific characteristic... sure, the only people who would be able to do something like that were raised under similar circumstances, with similar upbringings and teachings. And that, of course, had to mean Stark. The fact that they had the same build and bone structure didn't hurt, though.

Steve shook his head, muttering angrily at himself for having drifted off again and tried to hide the blush that coloured his face, before looking back at Tony. Muttering a little louder, so that Tony could hear him, he apologized, and quickly started for the door. A single snort of muted laughter followed him, but he didn't hear any sounds of movement to indicate the man was following him.

He glanced over his shoulder to ask if he was coming, and almost tripped. The man was striding, completely silently, not a step behind him. That was a good trick to have, Steve was sure, but he'd end up breaking his neck if he didn't get used to it. And probably several other people's while he was at it. It was actually rather unnatural. But nothing about Tony was really natural. Maybe that was what was so enthralling about him, that he wasn't like anyone else, and no one could really be like him.

It took about four steps out into the main part of the building before every eye was locked on the two, and at about six, he realized why. Most shirts didn't glow, and Steve, though standing in front of the man, was not nearly big enough to block most of Tony.

No one said a word, only stared wide eyed as they walked over to Howard. The man gave the center of the glow, barely showing against the fabric, a speculative look, but didn't comment. His dismissal of the thing seemed to break everyone else in the rooms awe of it, and they shot back to work as if the two weren't.

Truthfully, they were probably trying to ignore the sparks of animosity that threatened to ignite the air between the two Stark men. If it were possible to ignore, at least. Steve certainly was trying not to be part of it.

The only ones who were truly managing to ignore it were Howard and Tony. Besides their eyes trying to burn holes into one another, and their defensive stances, they didn't seem ready to actually pounce on one another. If Steve were to make a guess, neither were consciously aware of the tension they were creating around themselves.

"The final lab is in Brooklyn." Howard could be talking to the thin air instead of a person, for all the emotion in his voice. "We could use the help setting it up, and Steve will be transported over tomorrow evening."

Tony gave the man a humored smile that never reached his eyes. "You kidding? Work with more of this outdated junk, or hang out with Capt...uh, Steve. I think I'll stick with Cappy."

Steve tried to ignore the feeling of elation that welled up in the pit of his stomach, and chose instead to make a face at the nickname, but didn't bother to tell Tony... again... that he wasn't a Captain. He couldn't wait until he was, though.

Howard made a face, and nodded, then turned back to whatever it was he was working on. Steve couldn't tell one side of the thing from the other, but Tony looked over his shoulder, studying it intently, scanning meticulously.

"If you want that to work properly, you're going to have to calibrate the..." He cut off at the glare Howard was giving him. At first, Steve thought that he might be frightened of Howard, until he saw the shit-eating grin that forced a shocked stare into Howards. And Steve didn't understand it... Sure, Howard was the best engineer in the country, but it Tony was able to make corrections, and point out flaws, even manage to make his machines run better, shouldn't Howard just be happy for the help? Maybe Howard had just been the best too long to be able to accept that.

In the end, Tony just shrugged and walked away, leaving Steve to trail after him, and Howard to stare. It really couldn't be _that_ simply to keep people like Howard silent, could it? That seemed just too simple. Then again, much the same look had shut Steve up more times than one, even before Tony showed up... Even Bucky had done it to him, it occurred to him. Wow, maybe he should try to employ that ability. Then again, it probably wouldn't work, him being such a small guy.

The rest of the evening really just consisted of him trailing after Tony as he made his way around the room, and fiddled with just about everything electrical that he could get his hands on, sometimes nodding approvingly, other times giving the devices dirty looks, and quickly got himself wrist deep into its wiring, completely ignoring the bandages.

A few hours after he'd spoken to Tony, Howard shook Steves hand, and left with most of the other scientists, with a large amount of the smaller electronics. He and Tony exchanged a quick nod, the first real civil thing that Steve seen between the two.

The meeting between Tony and doctor Erskine was surprisingly anti-climactic, the two men simply sizing one another up, and nodding in acknowledgment, but other than a quick exchange of names, didn't really speak much to one another for hours while Tony went around, collecting various materials that Steve had no idea what he could possibly need, and Erskine did a few last-minute blood test compatibility for the next day with Steve.

He never asked Steve about him either, only casting glances at him every now any then. Tony seemed to appreciate the fact, and there was almost immediately a warm silence in the air between him and the doctor. By the time that the doctor was finished, it was rather late at night. The Doctor had already eaten something before he'd shown up, and Steve wasn't allowed to eat. He expected Tony to be starving, but the man said nothing about it. When he mentioned it to him, he just smiled slightly, and ruffled his hair, before refusing any food. Under the guise of "Not hungry."

Steve shrugged, but didn't press up. Getting ready for sleep, Steves stomach was knotted, and he couldn't bring himself to lie down. Tony was cross-legged on his own cot, fiddling with a bit of metal. After about 5 minutes of watching clever hands messing around with its wiring, there was a quick knock, and doctor Erskine walked in, smiling down at Steve, meeting Tony's eyes momentarily before the two men dismissed each other again.

"Can't sleep?"

"Got the jitters, I guess." The doctor chuckled.

"Me too." Tony snorted, but kept fiddling with the wires.

"Always something you want to hear." Steve had to fight down a smile, thinking that the doctor would be insulted, but looking at the mans face, he was struggling to keep his own smile from showing, but made no move to answer him.

Steve shivered. "Can I ask you a question?" both pairs of eyes shot to him, Tony's just full of curiosity, Erskine, expectant.

"Only one?" Steve shifted uncertainly, and Tony's eyes snapped off of him, almost apologetic. For what, Steve couldn't say.

"Why me?"

Erskine chuckled. "I guess that is the only question that matters." He sat down on Tony's cot, a few feet from the other man, facing Steve, and held up a bottle. "This is from Augsburg, my city." He contemplated the bottle before continuing. "So many people forget that the first country that the Nazis invaded was our own."

Tony simply nodded knowingly. This time, it was Steve that didn't look surprised. At least he knew that Tony probably had similar circumstances from whenever he was from. From Erskines point of view, it probably didn't make any sense. He quickly shook himself out of it when Erskine took up his story again.

"You know, after the last war there, my people struggled. They felt weak, they felt small. And then, Hitler comes along with the marching, and the big show, and the... and he, he hears of me, and he comes to me and he says 'You.' he says, 'You will make us strong.' Well, I am not interested. So he sands the head of Hydra, his research division," They both paused to look at Tony, who had shuddered at the name. That couldn't be a good sign... probably best not to mention it.

Erskine shook his head as if to clear it, and continued on as if nothing had happened. "A brilliant scientist by the name of Johann Schmidt. Now, Schmidt is a member of the inner circle, and he is ambitious. He and Hitler share a passion for occult power... and Teutonic myth." Steve glanced back at Tony. His eyes had become hard, deep in thought.

"Hitler uses his fantasies to inspire his followers. But for Schmidt, it is not fantasy. For him, it is real. He has become convinced that there is a great power hidden in the earth, left from the gods, waiting to be seized by a superior man." The sound that came from Tony's throat could only be described as a growl. He was glaring into the distance, now.

"Let me guess. The Tesseract."

Erskine looked surprised, and nodded, opening his mouth to ask how he knew, before he seemed to think better of that idea, seeing how angry it seemed to make Tony. Steve came quickly to the same conclusion.

"So, when he hears about my formula, and what it can do... he cannot resist." He shook his head again. "Schmidt must become that superior man." There was a shirt pause.

"...So, did he become stronger." Tony nodded, just slightly, but Erskine didn't seem to notice it, and did the same thing.

"Yeah. But there were other... effects." Erskine shuddered. "The serum was not ready...but mare important, the man. The serum amplifies everything that is inside, so good becomes great." Tony quickly sent Steve a smile, "Bad becomes worse. This is why you were chosen. Because a strong man," Erskines gaze drifted over to Tony, studying him, "who has known power all his life, may lose respect for that power."

Tony shrugged, looking completely uninsulted, and Erskine smiled before he looked back over to Steve. "But, a weak man knows the value of strength. And knows compassion." That earned a quiet snort from Tony, but when Steve looked over at him, his face was completely innocent.

"Thanks... I think." Erskine nodded, smiling, and gestured at the glasses that sat on Steves trunk at the end of the bed, and Steve quickly handed the man all three.

"Whatever happens tomorrow," He began as he poured each glass out, roughly halfway full of the vodka, "you must promise me that you will stay who you are. Not a perfect soldier, but a good man." He handed out the glasses to the other men in the room, grinning gently.

Steve smiled back at him, and held up his glass. "To the little guys." the others wore an almost identical half-smile, and raised their glasses, Erskine actually tapping his own, Tony just pointing it in his direction, and Steve lifted the glass to his mouth, both men suddenly pounced towards him.

Erskine was shaking his head, frantic "No, no, wait, wait... what am I doing? You have a procedure tomorrow, no liquids."

Steve made a face down at his now empty hand as Erskine emptied his glass into Tony's, mostly, and a little in his own. "Oh. Alright, we'll just drink it after."

Erskine snorted in his direction as Tony took a drink of it, smiling. "No, we don't have a procedure tomorrow. Drink it after? Drink it now." Erskine quickly followed Tony's lead, but definitely took a smaller mouthful of the liquid.

Steve grimaced, and turned sad eyes on the other man. "Tony?"

the man was completely unaffected by the look, as he took another drink, a slight smile spreading across his face. "As much as I'd like to see you drunk, Cap, there isn't exactly much i can do about it tonight, is there?"

As they continued going through the bottle, Steve wasn't completely sure that he was upset about not being able to drink. It was surely much more fun to watch Erskine drunk, but Tony seemed to think it was just as amusing, even having been drinking more than the doctor.

Erskine talked a lot, very fondly about his family, who were safe back in Germany, and Steve couldn't help but think about his own. It was nice to have so many good memories about his mother, and such an inspiring father. It took him a while for Steve to notice Tony's silence. The man was smiling sadly, almost, at the two. Erskine drifted off, happily into memory.

Steve would never have even considered asking his next question if Tony hadn't been drunk, given the reaction he'd had to Howard.

"Do you miss your family, Tony?" He looked slightly amused for a second before that same sadness returned to his eyes.

"Hard to miss what you never had."

"But... Howard is your father, right?" Another small smirk.

"Both of my parents died when I was still in school."

"I'm...sorry. But you must have missed them since then, right?" Steves mind decidedly ignored the memory of the two Stark men interactions with one another at that moment, it seemed.

" Like I said: It's hard to miss what you never had. Howard spoke to me maybe five times since I was three, and most of those times it was to yell at me about something or another."

Steve was shocked. Surely Howard wasn't actually a bad parent... he was really a good man, after all. But, it wasn't as if Tony would just lie to him out of nowhere... he'd been shockingly truthful with him about any of his other questions, after all... "What about your mom?"

Tony snorted. "I can't remember ever seeing her when she wasn't almost blackout drunk."

He was no longer looking at Steve, but he could almost hear the pain in the mans voice.

"Like an old friend once said, 'I am a man who has everything; and nothing.'"

Erskine lifted one eyebrow in his direction. "Sounds to be a close friend, to get away with saying something like that to you."

Tony's expression didn't change as he lifted his bandaged hand to the glowing center of his chest. "You could say that. He was a good man."

Steve wanted to leave it alone. He really did, but he still couldn't manage to keep his mouth shut. "He..was?... How did he die?"

Tony looked him in the eye, pinning him down with a stare. Maybe he wasn't as drunk as Steve had thought... his eyes certainly didn't look unfocused or cloudy. Agony filled the other mans eyes, bleeding from the caramel gaze. It was probably the most open expression Steve had ever seen on his face. He didn't dare drop his eyes. "He died a hero. Jumping into a situation he had no control over, trying to do something that he never could, just to make sure I lived."

There was nothing Steve could say to that. Hell, he could barely force his eyes from the agonized gaze. Even when he managed to, he could still feel Tony watching him, those too old eyes trying to bore into him. One day, he'd learn to think things through before saying them. Hopefully. Not tonight, it seemed.

"...Tony?"

"Hm?"

"You don't like it when people see that glowing thing, but you don't seem to mind me looking at it. Why?"

At least that brought the smirk back, and shook a little of that sadness away from his expression.

"You've already seen it. You accept it, simply because it's there. Normally, people don't. Honestly, it's because I trust you, Steve."

Steve blushed, and smiled shyly at Tony, who had drifted off into his own thoughts again. Erskine had managed to pass out completely on Tony's cot in the middle of the exchange. Steve tried to appear normal, like his chest wasn't pounding as hard as it was. Even as he crawled into his own cot, he couldn't manage to wipe the smile from his face, not aware of Tony smiling at him in the silence.

"Night, Cap."

"Night, Tony."

* * *

** ...So halfway through this chapter, I stopped listening to music, and started listening to Drunktank podcasts by Roosterteeth Productions... oh man. The earlier ones are so great. For those who don't know what Roosterteeth is, they are most famous for their internet machinima series, Red vs Blue, based on the game Halo. So, this chapter probably changed tones often, in ways that don't make complete sense. **


	8. When heroes are made

**Ok, new chapter, have some good cold meds, so, you know, that's awesome. I'll be able to sleep now. Always a good thing. This winter is actually pretty intense, here. Metric shit ton of snow every few days and the roads are icy as hell. Of course, the summers are usually just as intense, but at least the air isn't humid.**

** ...Midway through this chapter, I had the most awkward sense of deja vu, that I have no idea how the hell I'd been through this before. Listening to the 30****th**** posdcast of Drunktank, at the part where, if any of you listen, Gavin thinks that headlight fluid is a real thing, with Bleach running in the background (I enjoy the background noise. Gets lonely otherwise) looking at a list of top 100 songs of this age, most of which I couldn't care less about. It was awkward.**

** Long chapter, of which own none of the character or any of the settings. **

_"What am i fighting for, there must be something more. For all these words I sing, do you feel anything?" _Fighting- by Yellowcard.

* * *

Tony gave up pretending to try to sleep halfway through the night, once he was completely sure that both men were dead asleep. He definitely didn't want Steve obsessing over him getting some sleep. Then again, it wasn't as if he could say much, seeing as most of his bed...if it could be called that... was taken over by a drunk doctor.

He smirked at the thought of the hangover the man would likely have in the morning. It had been a good vodka after all, but he was too heavy of a drinker to be too affected by such a small amount he'd had. It hadn't been such a small amount for Erskine, apparently. It was rare that he drank with another person.

Parties didn't count. He never actually enjoyed talking to people or the atmosphere at parties. That was probably why he'd become such a heavy drinker, or at least, in part. To easy to drink too much when you were trying to drown out how dull other people generally were. At least Erskine was interesting enough while drunk.

It was disturbing how much he reminded Tony of Yinsen. The same kind of man, same kind of heart. At least the man didn't look like him, otherwise Tony would probably have ended up saying something that would have done nothing but confuse the others. Already, he'd said too much, no doubt. Steve, he found that he didn't really mind knowing those things, but Erskine, he wasn't so sure of. Yeah, he was like Yinsen, but he wasn't sure if he'd want Yinsen to know. Trustworthy, absolutely, but still, some things were private.

No doubt his father would press on about the reactor, and he'd have to rub it in his face. If he had to do anything, he did try to do it in style, after all.

Tony shifted on his pillow uncomfortably and tried to glare at the thing. He'd had to sleep on worse, of course, but that was always in situations where he was a captive. In it's way, this was no different. He was forced here against his will, and it would certainly be as much of a pain in the ass to get out of as when he'd been held by the Ten Rings. At least he had the Cap..

And because of Captain America's odd aversion to using credit cards when he needed anything, he had a few hundred dollars on him in cash. It would be helpful to have. It was just a damn good thing that he'd had his wallet on him, really.

Finally, Tony got off of his cot, as quickly as he could,since the thing squeaked like a bitch. Steve really needed the sleep, and he would have actually felt bad if that damn squeaking had woken him up.

It was absolutely ridiculous thinking that this tiny kid was the same Steve Rogers as the Captain America that he knew, but he acted like the Steve he knew, taken away the fact this one seemed to be more pleasant to be around. Hell, they'd gone half a day without getting into a some sort of fight. It was just awkward, though, having to look down to meet his eyes, looking at the familiar face, but thinner, gaunt- looking. The voice was the same, at least.

He never remembered the man being so shy... probably just never got a chance to show it, seeing as the only real time they had ever really met each other, and held a conversation, was when they were on a mission, when Steve was clearly the one in charge, no matter how much Tony butted heads. Well, then and momentarily when he was drunk. He didn't remember much of that part, but he had a sense that Steve hadn't been approving of his inebriated state.

Tony sighed, and Started off on a trek around the small compound. To be fair, it really wasn't "small," unless he compared it to any floor of the Stark tower. Large enough that it took him about five minutes to find a damn shower, to be certain. He'd considered taking one earlier, but there were so many people around, so many people that would just stare and yell when they saw his reactor.

Normally, he was pretty good at pretending not to care when people stared, and ignore them when asked about it. It was perhaps the biggest testament to how stressed and panicked he was all day that he'd snapped at that moron of a doctor. It had taken most of his concentration after than not to snap at anyone else, and look unconcerned in the lab, with all those people. As much as it had done for him, and what it represented for him, he hated the damn thing.

He carefully folded his clothes off to the side as he stepped into one of the small shower cubicles, holding his breath, eyes shut tight as he turned on the water. Another thing he would never bring up, and was, under normal circumstances, under considerable control over, was that he still had panic attacks, minor, and controllable, as long as he was able to control his breathing. But it was as if he could still feel the cord running from his chest to the oily, old car battery electrocuting his chest.

After having been electrocuted on such a deep level, so deep, and so close to the heart, any other form of torture was just a joke. Sure, there was some pain on a basic, surface level, and emotional and psychological torture had never worked on him, so, even when it made him scream, he felt pretty invincible. He knew that he wouldn't break from it, at least.

After a few moments of letting the searing hot water wash over him, he allowed himself to start breathing again, taking deep, silently gasping breaths, as if trying to convince himself that he could. The bright blue reactor jutting out of his chest whirred pleasantly in the water, the vibrations of it spreading through the bones of what remained of his sternum. It was incredible uncomfortable, but at the same time, a comfort. It let him know that he was alive. As if he needed the constant reminder. Well, sometimes he did. He really hated the damn thing.

He wasn't sure how long he just zoned out of existence, standing in the steaming water, thinking. Several parts of his mind scrambled to try to remember exactly how he'd made the device, and perhaps why it had worked the way it had, but every one came up empty, time and time again. He was distantly aware, after the water had turned cool, of someone coming into the room, and heard them say something.

After, maybe two minutes, he opened his eyes, and twisted his head over to look at the person. At least it was Steve. He didn't feel the need to hide the glow of his chest. As seconds passed, and they just stared at one another, Tony was aware of the concern growing on Steves face. He tried to drag his mind to figure out what had been asked, but came up blank. Again. He swallowed, and coughed lightly.

"What?"

"I asked if you were ok..?"

"Yeah, completely fine." Tony shook the water out of his hair, and turned off the water.

"No offense, but you don't look fine." Tony felt his irritation jump, but violently reigned in his temper. It would accomplish less than nothing to snap at Steve, now.

"Why bother asking if you've already come up with your own answer?"

"Well, I hadn't when I asked in the first place. You staring off into nothing so hard that you didn't hear me speaking kind of tipped me off." Tony laughed humorlessly.

"No, I'm alright, Cap, just thinking. You'll get used to it, I'm sure." Steve grunted, and glanced the other way as Tony ripped the half-curtain away from the door, and wrapped himself with the fluffy towel hanging outside of the stall. Tony snickered. "Damn, cappy, you are shy, aren't you?"

Steve blushed red up to his hairline, eyes glued to the floor. Towel wrapped around his waist, Tony grabbed his clothes, and passed the man, ruffling his short blond hair as he passed. He rubbed a hand over his face, and winced. "Don't happen to have a razor anywhere, do you?" Steve nodded, and ran out. By the time he got back, Tony had pulled on his clothing, frowned down at the singed pants, and ridiculously thin shirt, and was attacking the soaked wrappings that encased his arm. The damn thing would just have to manage without them.

He quickly got to work, and removed the rough stubble that had grown around his artistically carved beard, and washed off both his face and the razor before handing it back to Steve, straightening, and finally smiled down at him, shoving all of his worries to the back of his mind, letting his mind work through the process un-consciously until he could spare the time to think about it more. It was best to try not to worry Steve any more than he already had.

Steve seemed to want to question him more on his state of mind, but let it go. Glancing out of the small window in the corner of the room, it was just starting to get light outside. Stupid morning people... there were far too many of those in the military, it seemed. He couldn't stand being around Rhodey in the morning, even if he he'd slept. He complained too much that he hadn't slept, usually.

The other man just shook his head, sighing. "Well, I can't eat anything, but we really should find you something for breakfast" He still looked almost concerned, but Tony only shook his head.

"Not hungry."

A look of confusion spread across his face. "But... you didn't eat yesterday."

He smirked in his general direction. "Why no, Steve, no I didn't."

"The you need to eat." There was no hint of a question in his voice.

"In the future, people don't eat, we're injected with nutrient." he forced himself not to smile at the look of shock that appeared on the other mans face.

"Wait, really?"

He was tempted, but couldn't do it. "I'm just shitting you, lot of overeating, actually. I should have kept that prank up, for a few day, but how could I lie to those big blue eyes?"

Steve blushed, and laughed slightly, "Seriously, why?"

Tony's face fell, and he considered it for a second before deciding that it was Steve, and he could trust the man with something like this. "To be honest, as stupid as it is... I can't eat right now."

The questioning look came back onto his face, but he waited patiently for Tony to explain.

"I'm far too stressed out to be able to eat. I don't know what to do, and it's idiotic, but..."

Steve nodded. "I think I understand. It makes sense." Tony arched an eyebrow at him. "Well, this isn't your time, and you have no idea how you got here..."

"Well, technically, I do know how I got here, I just don't understand the mechanics of it."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Still, you can't undo it right now, and that's not a stupid thing to be stressing out about at all." Steve hesitated, but ended up putting a hand on Tony's shoulder. "I'd be going out of my mind. At least you have the technology and ability to get back to your own time, even if it is locked in your head. You'll figure it out."

Tony sighed, and smiled over at the kid. "Promise?"

Steve had that shy smile on his face again. "Promise. Now come on, we should at least get to the car. We don't want to be late for this." His voice shook at the end.

It was Tony's turn to put a hand on the smaller mans shoulder. "Don't worry, Steve. You'll be fine, alright?"

"Do you promise?"

"Of course."

"Good."

Tiny smiled, a real smile this time, and he knew Steve could tell it was different than normal. Damn, he'd kill to have that ability... "I could use some coffee, if you know where to find any." Steve laughed again, and gestured towards the door.

Half an hour later, they were in a dark, old town car, a decently nice model, Tony noted, but nothing he was used to, Steve staring out of the window at the passing buildings, Erskine up front, hung-over as all hell, and Tony with his hand wrapped around a half empty cup of coffee, two others already settling inside of him. Steve had looked mystified when he'd downed two of the steaming cups, without adding anything to taste or even letting them cool, so he'd taken pity on the man, and decided to actually drink this one calmly. Already, his mind was clearing up from the drinking he had done the night before.

That was one good thing about not being able to get drunk easily: He rarely had to deal with a hang-over, like the miserable doctor.

"I know this neighborhood..." Tony glanced over at Steve. "I got beat up in that alley... and that parking lot. And behind that diner." Tony gave him an odd look.

"Did you have something against running away?" Steve snorted, but shook his head, looking away from the window as the buildings rushed past.

"If you start running, they'll never let you stop. You stand up, you push back. They can't say no forever, right?"

The driver, a rather pretty brunette named Peggy, made an amused noise, and glanced back at them. Tony, for some reason, couldn't manage to rip his eyes from Steve to stare at her, though.

"I guess I really don't know what that's like. Then again, I never went into the military."

"I don't know why you wouldn't want to, I mean, you're some genius, right, so why not work for the country?"

Tony snorted. "I _do_ work for the military. Among others. Used to work with with the Air Force, mostly in weapons, now, mostly field medicines. But I've never seen the need to directly join up. It's easier to be an unlicensed contractor."

Steve let out something that sounded like it was supposed to be a laugh, but his throat was obviously too tight to manage it. "Probably too busy with a bunch of beautiful dames, right..?" He glanced over at Peggy, and blushed at the angry look she gave him. "I mean women... uhhh."

Tony snickered. "You have no idea how to even speak around a woman, do you?"

He blushed deeper, looking down at his shoes, trying to avoid Peggy's looks. "This is probably the longest I've really been around one. Women aren't exactly lining up to dance with a guy they might step on." Tony felt his heart drop a little. Poor kid. So what if he was a skinny little guy, he was still cute... he stopped that thought before it went too far.

"You must have danced."

Steve smiled over at him. "Well, asking a woman to dance always seemed so terrifying. And the past few years, it just didn't seem to matter that much. Figured I'd just wait."

"For what?"

"The right partner." The smile that Steve sent to him may have been small, but his heart had a rather uncomfortable moment as it tried to skip a beat against the reactor. He hoped that he managed to shoot him back a smile before Steve looked back down at his shoes. The rest of the ride was taken in relative silence, Steve occasionally looking out of the window, Tony trying to figure out what just happened with his heart. And try to figure out if he liked the feeling or not.

When they finally pulled up at the small shop, they all made to get out, but Peggy stopped Steve, and Erskine gestured to Tony to follow him. Still, he glanced over at Steve for confirmation, before following the doctor into the shop, where the man and an elderly lady exchanged a few words. Walking past the desk, he say an automatic rifle strapped under her desk, and couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at her. She just winked slyly back at him when she saw what he'd been looking at.

He smiled to himself. _'just don't make them like that anymore, I guess' _ the room that grew ahead of them was smaller than the warehouse, and crammed full to just about as many machines as there had been back there. Doctor Erskine went down the metal steps immediately, and began examining one of the power boards near the center of the room.

Tony just shrugged, and made his way down the stairs, and stood, surprisingly quietly behind Howard. It was worth it, the moment he turned around and squeaked almost impossibly high pitched. As Howard glared at the older man, he just snickered.

"So. Need me to do anything, father?" Oh, watching Howards eye twitch like that would not get old soon.

"Stop calling me that...You're older than I am."

Tony held his head to one side, contemplating. "Not according to our birth certificates." Howard winced. Again. Would never get old. Still, the old man did manage to shake it off quickly enough. Then again, the flash of the camera as Steve walked in, and the silence that suddenly filled the room might have helped. Steve looked terrified as he shook Erskines hand. A camera flashed.

"Please. Not now." Tony shot a quick smile to Steve before Howard pulled his attention back to him.

"Look, you're from the future, right?" Tony lifted an eyebrow, but nodded. "OK, look. This time, we got the OK to divert power from the surrounding area from the State Department, but next time... I really don't want to have to put that in their hands, if you know what I mean..?"

"Wait, so you want me to give you a power source..? From from the future." Howard shrugged, and stared him right in the eye. This couldn't possibly be a good idea... but, still. The man had a point. Where would Stark Industries be if they constantly had to beg the government for handouts..? Besides... this wasn't really "giving" it to Howard... more like an investment into his own survival. He just wished that he could think of a different way. It was risky, and felt... wrong. Maybe he could just give them the basic design, not the new, improved one... at least then, the man couldn't get into too much trouble with it.

Tony sighed, trying not to glare at his father. "OK, I can help you. I will give you a small bit of energy, but not the full design. Best I can do for you." The eyes of every person that wasn't up in the watching booth were on the two men, most filled with confusion.

Howard looked excited... then outraged. "Why not? You have the technology, you have the ability to create a better energy source, something that will push us, not only into the forefront of current technology that we understand, but to the level of hydra... we would be able to control the entire planet without question, and you only want to give us the base concept of that power!?" He strode forward, and stabbed a finger into his chest... and met a hard cool metal. It was always fun when someone tried... and ultimately failed... to poke him. They always looked so startled.

Tony drew himself up to his full height, only a few inches over Howard, but it seemed to be feet. He gave up on trying to be pleasant, and glared down at the man, gaze burning into the other mans eyes. The shock showed quite quickly, as the man practically jumped away from him.

"You really can stand there and say that to me, then wonder why I won't give you infinite power? You really have the audacity to ask me to hand something over to you that is considered more advanced than anything most people of even in my time can barely comprehend, much less create on their own? When you so calmly talk about doing the same thing that you're creating Captain America to prevent?" He snorted, but if anything, his gaze grew even more intense. "You and I are much the same in some ways, Howard, much as that pains me to say. We are both considered war mongers, weapons contractors. But we are different in one distinct way: I realize that it isn't a black and white issue. I can see that the system is _our_ responsibility, that the choices that we make regarding our weapons become _our_ problems the moment that they are created to be used against us."

He lifted his shirt, and let Howards eyes drift down to the Reactor and the multitude of scars surrounding it, and those scattered across his body for the first time. He could feel Steve gazing at him as well, but he kept his eyes locked on Howard.

"Do you see this? This is the miniaturized, finished version of the technology that I am willing to give you." Howards gaze grew disappointed, looking at such a small device. "This device generates roughly 12 *gigajoules per second." Howard choked on air. Hacking, his eyes shot momentarily back up to meet Tony's, then back down to his chest, eyes nearly twice as wide as they had been. For that matter, every person in the room other than Steve sat there gaping at it like drowning fish. Each one probably wishing that they had the guts to reach out and take it. Steve just looked confused.

"Yeah. And do you know why it has to be in my chest? You know why I have most of these scars?" Howard just looked back up into his eyes, and tried to regain composure, to regain control of the situation. " Because I didn't know that. Not at first. I am able to create the most advanced weaponry of my time, the most advanced anything, really, miles ahead of my competitors. But you know, that doesn't matter much when just one person in your life is willing to sell that technology behind your back.

"I was blown by one of my own missiles, at the hands of terrorists licensed to kill me by the one person that I was closest to. But, you see, my device wasn't designed to blow off legs like most explosives, to make the enemy incapable of fighting, but alive. No, this bomb shoots massive amounts of shrapnel into the enemy fighters. It doesn't kill right away. In fact, most of the time, it isn't even considered a major injury. Until the next week, when that persons own muscles and blood push the shrapnel into vital organs." Now, Steve seemed to be able to understand that much. He wasn't the only one in the room to look sick.

"These shards are nearly undetectable, it is almost impossible to remove them all in time, if ever. I made it that way to shatter morale. It's hard to be passionate about your cause when un-injured comrades just fall over dead next to you, days after your last firefight." As sick as Steve looked, he still was able to nod in understanding.

Tony laughed quietly, just one, quick snort of unamused laughter. "They call these people, hit by my technology, the walking dead. They didn't call me the Merchant of Death for nothing. Then I got hit, and was held captive by people trying to force me to build them my latest, most deadly missile. And I agreed, after a little bit of torture, thinking that I'd be dead in a few days anyway, there was no way that I'd be able to actually build anything. But a fellow prisoner, a doctor called Yinsen, managed to save me, by getting out all the bits he could, then putting an electromagnet into my chest, powered by a car battery, to keep the remaining shrapnel away from my organs."

He turned his head slightly, to see Steve giving him a questioning look. Tony nodded to him, just a slight incline of the head, but Steve seemed to catch on. His eyes opened wide, understanding who he was talking about. He turned back to Howard.

"He convinced me to live, to try to get out of that cave, and try to correct the errors that I had made. The battery wouldn't last long, though. So, I miniaturized the technology of a much larger reactor, one that was actually rather useless, and implanted it in my chest. Yinsen managed to get himself killed so that I would have time to be able to escape. After escaping, I stopped making weapons, killed the man who was trying to kill me, and managed to create something to actually protect the people with my technology.

"But the core of the original arc reactor was slowly poisoning me, forcing me to find and create a new element. Even now, this little thing is the only reason I'm alive. And you want to use it to create more weapons." He lowered his shirt, and almost smirked when he saw the smallest glimpse shame spark in his fathers eyes."Still. I will give you what I offered. After this. This is much too important to be wasting time on something like that."

That seemed to break the spell, and sent the rest of the people around them back to work. Howard opened his mouth, almost managing to form a wordless apology, before snapping it shut, swallowing, and turning back to the power board. Now, he did smirk.

He forced the smirk into a real smile when he looked back over to Steve. Poor kid looked so apologetic, almost... sad, having heard the pathetic excuse of a story he'd told. The smile seemed to put him at ease, though.

Dr. Erskine made his way over to him, somehow managing to break away from the media, and took his arm, quickly steering Tiny over to the power board next to his father.

"Ok, Anthony... this is an extremely sensitive environment, and we need to be absolutely sure that the levels stay even, meaning you'll have to adjust these, while Mr. Stark concentrates fully on power flux." Howard glared at the man.

"I think that I'm perfectly capable of doing both." The doctor looked like he was about to smack the man over the head.

"If either area is neglected for a second, Steven will probably die."He turned towards Tony, and whispered quietly enough that Howard wouldn't hear, "And he's more likely to get distracted, leaving you with the job that requires more concentration and control." Tony smirked, and patted the doctor on the back. He turned and gave Tony a wink, then went off to deal with the rest of the room.

Tony turned back to the board, ignoring his father, and began studying it, memorizing it. He really missed being able to do things like this. Since becoming Iron Man, it was rare that he ever worked on anything other than the suit.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Erskine standing next to Steve, as he lay himself down onto the table.

"Comfortable?"

"It's a little big." Tony smothered a snort of laughter, as did Erskine. "Did you save me any of that schnapps?" Steve glanced around the room, trying not to look as uncomfortable as he no doubt felt, and failed horribly.

"Not as much as I should have." Doctor Erskine didn't even seem to notice himself wince. "Sorry."

Tony rolled his eyes, but otherwise didn't bother shifting them from the circuit board to look at either of the men. "Oh, please. I drank you under the table. Lose with some dignity, man."

Steve let out a rather surprised laugh, and relaxed slightly, while Erskine just smiled lightly, and shook his head.

Steve grinned over at Tony, who waved a hand back. "Next time."

Erskine shook his head one last time, before turning back towards the Two Stark men.

"Mr. Stark, how are your levels?" Howard opened his mouth to answer, but Tony cut him off.

"Levels at 100%. We'll probably dim half the lights in Brooklyn, but we are a-go." Erskine turned and muttered something to Peggy, who blushed and quickly made her way up the stairs to the observation deck.

Tony finally turned away from the board to smile encouragingly at Steve. The man shakily returned it.

A loud screeching filled the air as Erskine tapped on the microphone in his hand. "Do you hear me? Is this thing on? Ladies and Gentlemen, today we take not another step towards annihilation, but the first steps on the path to peace." He gestured back at Steve, and Tony forced his attention back to the board as one of the nurses in attendance began to hook Steve up to a series of wires connected to the machine under him.

"We begin with a series of micro injections into the subjects major muscle groups. The serum infusion will cause immediate cellular change." The nurses took 6 vials of a blue liquid, and inserted them into the machine, 3 on either side of Steve.

"The subject will be saturated with Vita-rays." One of the nurses carefully injected a needle into Steves arm and pushed in a thick liquid. Steve winced.

"That wasn't so bad..." He said quietly. Tony turned to give him the same slightly disbelieving look as Erskine did. The doctor covered the Mic, and whispered back

"That was Penicillin." Before shrugging and continuing on to the onlookers. "Serum infusion in five...four...three..." The needles lowered and pierced Steves skin, "Two..." Howard flipped a switch and the machine whirred into life. "One." The blue vials empties themselves into Steve, who let out a pained moan, eyes snapping wide open, Tony forced himself to Stop watching the little bit he could see from the corner of his eye, and turned his full attention back to the board, and as Steve was swallowed up in the machine, he began adjusting the dials minutely.

There was a knock on the glass widow of the case surrounding Steve. "Steven? Can you hear me?"

A muffled, shaky voice called back, "It's probably too late to go to the bathroom, right?" Tony fought away the smile that threatened to creep onto his face.

"We will proceed." Howard nodded, and proceeded to turn a thick metal wheel in the center of the board. Power began to fluctuate all through the machine, and Tony bit off a half-heated curse, and he quickly got everything under strict control. Damn good thing he was here... Howard seemed to be throwing all of his weight into turning the wheel, making it move rather slowly.

"That's ten percent." Light filled half the room, very dim at first, but slowly brightened as the machine began to screech. It was oddly the same colour as the light from his reactor, actually. "Twenty percent. Thirty." The screeching grew louder. "That's forty percent." Tony continued to slowly adjust the sensitive vitals, and muttered over to Erskine

"Vital signs are normal."

"That's fifty percent." The machines were really starting to give him a headache... didn't anyone in this age know how to make quieter machines? "Sixty. Seventy. Then, Steve began to scream in agony.

As Steves pained screams echoed into the room, Tony felt his heart and throat clench, and had to force his eyes not to slam themselves shut, force himself not to run to stop the mans pain. He forced his face to be a mask of indifference. The others couldn't seem to manage that.

Erskine spun, and ran over to the machine, banging on the window, "Steven! Steven?"

From the deck, he heard Peggy shouting at the doctor to shut it down.

He growled to himself before snapping at Howard, "No! Don't." The man nodded in his direction, but didn't move to turn the power.

"Steven!"

"Shut it down!"

Erskine spun towards the circuit board. "Kill the reactor, Mr. Stark." Howard jumped away from the wheel to the switches powering the thing... if he did, though, Tony had a feeling that it would end badly for Steve. So, being who he was, he did the only rational thing his mind could come up with: He tackled his dad, right as Steves voice broke through the machine

"NO! Don't! I can do this!" Good boy, Steve. Tony rolls off of Howard, back over to the board, and continues on as if nothing had happened. Howard moved more slowly, but didn't call him out on his rough behavior, and began turning the wheel again. Still, his voice did hold an edge of anger on it.

"Eighty. Ninety... that's one hundred percent." The screeching, luckily no longer accompanied by Steve, screamed loudly, and the lights flickered around the room. Then, everything shorted out, the bright light began to fade and the Whirring subsided.

Tony sprinted over to the machine, leaving Howard to deal with the smoking board. It slowly opened, revealing a very shiny Steve, the one that he had grown relatively used to seeing. Damn, but the Captain was built... so different from the little guy just a few minutes ago... it was a wonder he'd recognized the kid, really.

Steve sighed, and opened his eyes a crack, and looked at the doctor. "I did it..." Tony grinned, and helped Erskine support Steve as he stepped out of the case.

"Yeah... Yeah, I think we did it." Tony snorted.

"Well, oh course you did. Looking good, Cap. Much closer to what I'm used to. Now, we just need to find some ribbons and bells, and you'll be a legit badass again in no time." Steve blushed. "How do you feel?"

The huge man took a second to look around the room, panting heavily. "...Taller."

"Yeah... you look taller. Damn, that mean I'm the short one again." Erskine was walking around the room, shaking hands, smiling joyfully. The second Tony looked at him, fear swept through the Doctor, and his stance grew tense, he turned, quickly looking over at Steve, and caught Tony's eye, and opened his mouth to shout over to him, but whatever he said was drowned out by the sudden explosion that knocked everyone to the ground.

Tony found himself staring at the ceiling a few moments later, his head ringing from the force of the concrete hitting his head, but he shook it off, jumping to his feet. It might hurt more, but he could more more quickly out of his suit. He glanced around, and suddenly wished he were deaf. Everyone seemed to be screaming. Erskine was getting to his feet. Then, a gunshot rang out. Blood welled up from the doctors chest, and Tony met his eyes as the man went down. He felt his mouth open in a roar as fury welled up inside of him, and burst.

It was just like Yinsen, all over again. This time, the man wouldn't get away. The man holding the small hand gun stared at him, wide eyed. Frightened. Good. He should be. Tony lept for the man, his face twisted into a snarl. Too man people in the way... the man managed to turn and run, shoving people over to get up the stairs. Tony was half a step behind him, jumping over bodies huddled on the ground.

As they got into the main shop, he turned to corner just in time to see the old woman go down, rifle in hand. The rage inside of him roared more intensely. He snatched up the gun, and followed the man into the streets, to find the man hijacking a taxi. He raised his weapon and shot, but the door of the vehicle managed to get in the way from his actually scoring a hit. The other man, of course, didn't have anything in his way as he returned fire, and Tony felt a burning fire well up in his side.

He ran forward, and tried to grab the car, as if he were in his suit, but the metal slid away from him mockingly, as the taxi drove away. He sprinted a few feet into the street before the pain of the gunshot knocked him to his knees. He pushed the pain away, one hand gripping the gushing wound, the other holding the rifle steady against his shoulder, and took aim as the taxi spun around, and rushed back towards him.

He felt the blood leaking from his mouth, but ignored it. He had always been an amazing shot...

Someone grabbed the back of this too big shirt, and pulled him away right as he pulled the trigger, making the bullet go through the windshield, and graze the mans head. And right as the vehicle tore through the spot he had just been.

He growled, and turned to Steve, who was sprinting after the car and yelled in a voice he could barely recognize as his own, "Damn it, I had the fucking shot!"

He heard a distant apology being shouted back to him, but he couldn't process it. He couldn't hold the pain to the back of his mind anymore... running after the car had been a bad idea. He'd probably managed to make the wound worse.

Like blood, he felt the rage bleed out of him, and he lay down on the street, trying to control his breathing to block out the pain. He barely recognized the face that appeared over him as his fathers, or the frantic muffled words as the man called for a doctor.

Tony let out a quite moan he gave up, and let himself feel the pain as it sparked its way through his body. Damn, he hated getting shot.

* * *

**Finally... this chapter was really long. Didn't expect it to be. Oh well, got it done in time, at least. Thanks for reading. Hope the ending wasn't too rushed. **

**** Tony's original Arc Reactor, built in the cave, was capable of generating 3 gigajoules per second, but it has been stated that the second generation, or mark 2 chest piece, generated 4 times as much. I'm not sure quite how much the mark three, with the new vibranium core, can generate, so I'm just sticking with the mark 2's ability. For reference, a nuclear power plant generates r about one gigajoule per second, which is why Tony's reactor is so impressive. **


	9. When the hunt begins

**This chapter is probably going to be a lot shorter than the last one. If I can manage it, at least.**

_*_**Jojof: It will work itself out. Not much else I can say, sorry, but that will tie itself into the story later on. **

_"They say that smell is the strongest sense that's tied to memory. Well the stench of this place is almost as bad as the memory tied to it."_ Choice Hops and Bottled Self Esteem by Bayside.

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The man ran past the fallen doctor, ignoring the growing pool of blood that was slowly spreading on the floor. Tony was half a breath behind him, a look of pure, murderous rage painted across the usually nonchalant face. It was all that Steve could bring himself to do to stumble to his friend, and collapse to his knees beside him., looking down at the bloody holes in horror.

Erskines eyes were almost completely clouded over already, but he managed to lock them with Steves and with the last bit of energy that remained within him, meaningfully lifted a finger to Steves chest. Then, the small spark that remained in his eyes dies completely.

Anger overcame grief, and he stood, taller than he ever remembered being and forced his shaky legs to start moving. Power surged through him, power he's always wanted as a child, power he's never known could really exist. As quickly as he could, he sprinted up the stairs, around the stunned crowd that stared around themselves blankly.

He forced himself not to see the body of the old lady as he passed her. He stumbled and almost fell when his lungs suddenly decided they didn't want to work, however, when he got made his way outside of the small shop and caught sight of the street. It seemed as if a taxi had been hijacked and was now turned around to run down a lone gunman holding a rifle.

Chaos seemed to have claimed the street around him, but that was not what made him stop short, not what made his stomach roll in agony. It was Tony, kneeling on one knee in the middle of the street, one hand clasping his side, blood oozing almost delicately from between his fingers. His other hand held the rifle to his shoulder, set, and ready to fire. His face was a mask of rage and pain, mouth open, teeth bared in a silent snarl, more blood leaking from his lips, down his chin. His caramel eyes, normally full of humor, sparkled in anger, seeming to catch and refract the smallest bit of light that streamed into them, turning them into shards of amber, glowing his hatred.

Steve thought he had been angry before. But this, seeing this man, this embodiment of power and beauty, defiantly facing down a car on his knees, even as his own blood flowed on the streets as he fought against the pain, forced the grief that held a solid grip on his mind to flee and give way to a new ocean or rage he wasn't aware he was capable of. How _dare_ that man do this to the doctor? How _dare_ he do that to Tony! How _dare _he draw a breath when all that Steve could do was stand there?

He sprinted over to Tony, and grabbed him by the neck over his overly large shirt, and dragged him out of the way of the charging hunk of metal, and set him down as gently as he possibly could as he continued running after the now fleeing taxi.

"Damn it, I had the fucking shot!" a harsh voice that Steve only barely recognized as Tonys chased him down the street.

Turning his head slightly to look back over his shoulder, he called, "Sorry." the man stood, hand still gripping his side, but at least he wasn't following. Still, he'd have to make it up to him later. Tony Stark was hardly the type of man that you simply stopped from doing what he felt needed to be done without consequences.

But Steve would much rather die at Tonys hands than to stand by and watch him get crushed, even if the man had managed to hit his mark. Not that any part of him believed that Tony would actually kill _him_, but the thought still filled his mind.

The sudden realization of his line of thought mixed with his new found speed shocked him, sending him tumbling through a store window. Shaking his head, and gingerly picking himself up out of the glass, he forced his mind back onto the task at hand. Leaping back onto the streets, he hardly heard the angry shouts of the women that followed him, but he managed to shout back another hasty apology.

He had lost sight of the car, but he saw what direction of the path of destruction led, and fortunately, having been in this neighborhood many times as a child, he knew exactly where to head, and more quickly. He changed his direction slightly, leading him into a dark alley, building up his strength to jump as far up onto the tall fence at the end of it as he could, hoping to save time. The fence arrived much sooner than anticipated, and his leap managed to sent him clear over the towering mass of chain-linked metal.

He forced himself to ignore the impossibility of it, and kept running, right out of the alley, and into the street. The cars around him were moving too fast, the distinct taxi ahead of him outpaced him, but didn't seem capable of completely outdistancing him. Thinking quickly, he jumped again, throwing himself to the side, onto the back of a truck.

If he had been capable of any emotion at that moment besides rage, it would have been a mixture of elation and overwhelming fear. Distantly, he was glad that he didn't have to feel the fight between the two, and see which one would win. He forced his bare feet to get a grasp of the cold metal under him, and launched himself at another car, and another, as quickly as he got his balance on the new car.

Soon, there were no more cars between him and the taxi, with it farther ahead than he should have felt safe with. Of course, he wasn't feeling any of the fear that normally would have warned him not to jump. Not until the second after his foot left the metal, and he was sailing, flailing, through the air, at least. He allowed himself a moment of panic before he slammed down onto the taxi, flat on his stomach, wind knocked out of him.

Unlucky for the driver, he was used to the feeling, the force and not being able to inhale for a few precious moments. If Steve had been anyone but himself, he would slid off of the top in seconds, not able to force his stunned body to move. But he was, and he managed to slide his fingers in to the crevices that held the back door, and catch his breath, holding on for dear life and the car under him swerved, trying to throw him off.

It was pure luck that enabled him to move out of the way of the first bullet that sped out of the thin layer of metal that kept him from the murderer. The second, he knew was coming, and miraculously managed to avoid it as well.

The car turned quickly into the loading docks of the city's pier. Too quickly. Steve bit back a scream, and a curse that would have made Tony proud, and have him blushing, and jumped from the suddenly tumbling machine. This time, though, he landed hard on the hard asphalt of the road, and it took him considerably longer to shake the darkness that surrounded his vision, and stand up. By the time he managed to get onto his feet, the man was just stumbling out of the taxi.

He began to move slowly towards the other man, but was forced to duck, and weave to the side as a bullet passed through where he had been standing. Glancing around the ground, the only thing he could see to be of any use was the door to the taxi that must have broken off when the thing flipped. It was worth a try... and to his amazement, he easily lifted the heavy chunk of metal, and held it before himself like a shield.

He began to move cautiously towards the man, and it took all of two shots to realize that the door wouldn't stop a bullet at the range of the shooter. He dropped the door and his head at the same time, and sprinted over to an old, rusted wrecking ball that lay a few feet away from him.

The crowd milling around the docks screamed as the shooter pushed his way into them, all trying to scatter. Then, a woman started yelling.

"No! Not my son!" Steve glanced around the ball to see what was happening. A small boy in a too large jacket was struggling to get away from the man, who's arm was barred across his neck, forcing him to back up with him.

"Come on." The man hissed, so quietly that Steve shouldn't have heard it.

"Don't hurt him!" at least the frantic mother had the sense not to try to attack the man... Wait, wasn't that what he was trying..? Damn logic. Still, it wasn't like he coud just let the man have the child and get away, not after what he'd done. He shook all though from his head as he was forced to duck out of view again as a bullet bounced off of the thick metal between them.

When he looked back around the edge of the ball, he just barely caught sight of the child being dragged off into the small brick tunnel that led to the docks. Trying to ignore the rocks digging into his feet, he sprinted over to the edge of the building, and carefully looked in. The man stood there, glaring back at him, and whipped his weapon to the young boy's head.

He jumped into fully view, careful not to move too quickly towards the actual man, and held up his hand to show he was unarmed. "Wait, don't! Don't." The man hesitated long enough for Steve to get another step close to him before aiming at him. Steve stepped back, hands still in front of him, eyes glaring his hatred. Hopefully the man wouldn't see that as a threat... he heard the hammer drop in the weapon as it echoes through the small hall, but no bullet came. Empty.

The man cursed, and backed up a few steps to throw the boy into the water below, before tossing the gun to the ground, and running away from Steve.

Steve glared at the back of the fleeing man, but ran to the waters edge, and glanced down at the boy, preparing to jump in to rescue him. His luck was still in, it seemed, because the boy was calmly treading water, and called up to him the second his head poked over the side,"Go get him! I can swim." Steve nodded once to the child, before spinning in the direction the man had run off to, and forced his body to run after him.

There was a mechanical groaning near by, mixed under the sound of thrashing water. Straining his eyes ahead, he was the man getting into what looked like some sort of small black submarine... he forced himself not to think about what it might be, and focused on running. It wasn't his job right now to ask questions, he could do that later.

Just as he got to where the thing was, it completely submerged itself, and the churning water settled slightly as the machine took off. He couldn't lose him... so, he threw himself into the water, trying to force his falling from into a dive.

He hit the water smoothly, mere feet away from the moving device. Ignoring the fact that he could have just cracked his own skull open for jumping before looking, he swam as quickly as he could towards the thing, the murky water burning his eyes. The sub wasn't moving very quickly, at least, enabling him to catch up before he ran out of breath. He gripped the cool metal, and dragged himself closer to it, holding back a smirk at the mans horrified and disbelieving look when he saw him.

He didn't have much breath left, he had to do this quickly... which meant he'd probably hurt himself. Great. He gathered as much strength into one hand as he could, and punched clean through the window, allowing the pit to almost instantly be flooded with water. Pulling his hand out of the broken glass, barely feeling the stinging across his knuckles, he yanked open the door, and grabbed the man struggling for breath.

Almost too quickly, they made their way to the surface, the smaller man struggling in Steves iron grip. Steve took half a second to let his lungs fill with air, then tossed the man out of the water, and onto the dock, climbing up the ladder next to him as quickly as he could manage. The dark man was just getting to his knees, coughing up the muddy water when he saw Steve and tried to trow a fist at him.

Steve had been expecting an attack, and managed to sidestep it without any trouble, bringing one foot up to kick the man squarely in the jaw. He didn't expect the man to go down so hard, or to slide as far as he did, but he wasn't complaining. He jumped over to him before the man could bring himself to get back up, and latched both hands on the mans collar, pulling him up close to his face.

"Who the hell are you?!"

The man glared back up at him, and in a thick accent, replied, "The first of many...Cut off one head..." His tongue moved, and broke off one of his teeth, breaking it between his others before Steve had a chance to react. "...Two more shall take its place." Foam started to pour out of the mans mouth as he convulsed in Steves hand, but his eyes remained locked with Steves. "Hail.. Hydra." and then he was dead. No blood, no struggle, just... dead.

He dropped the man back to the ground, and backed away from him. Next to the man, the last of the blue serum soaked into the ground from a broken vial. Not good. Also, not anything he could change. He knew he should have felt exhausted, his limbs and lungs should be burning, but at most, he was just slightly uncomfortable and cold, but no more tired than he had been coming out of the machine back at the lab... less so, in fact. For really the first time, he looked down at his body, ignoring the crowd of people that were coming to see what had happened, down his board chest and up and down his large arms in complete amazement.

So this was what is was like to be strong. It felt different than he imagined, so powerful, but still sluggish, like he had moved his entire life as a small sick man. It would take some getting used to. He felt the cold lump of fear melt its way back into him, deep in his throat and dripping into his stomach. Tony. He turned and slowly began to move towards the crowd, trying to think of any way to get through them without hurting anyone.

It ended up that he didn't have to force his way through, as they parted to let through the hurrying woman agent, Peggy. Or, Agent Carter, perhaps he should call her. She nodded with wide eyes to Steve, hopefully ignoring the fact that he was soaking wet, then looked in anger over to the corpse. Not taking her eyes off of the dead man, she addressed Steve.

"You should get back to the lab. You really shouldn't be out right now, you're too valuable. You can be debriefed later, and I'll take care of this." he nodded, and almost hit himself. It wasn't like she could hear that, after all.

"Of course, ma'am...I'm sorry... I tried to capture him alive. He crunched some pill, then his mouth started foaming... and, well..." She looked over at him, and nodded once, then moved to the body, and began muttering to herself.

Turning back away from the two, he noticed that the crowd had mostly dispersed, probably thanks to the multiple Military Police wandering about, usually stopping to have what sounded like sharp words with any who lingered. One came up to him and snapped into a salute, then motioned him to follow. He returned the salute, and nodded. As he was being led to the black car, he caught sight of the child, wrapped up in a heavy jacket, his mother hugging him close, and trying to brush the water out of his hair.

Steve exchanged a look with the boy, who smiled widely at him, and tried to wave through the thick cloth. Steve gave him a wink before ducking into the back seat, followed quickly by the MP.

The ride back to the lab was silent and swift. Most of the roads were clear, swarming with MP, much to the obvious distaste of the civilians waiting. As quickly as the ride went, Steve was still sick with worry by the time the stopped back in front of the lab, and it didn't help that Tony was no where to be seen, though his blood stained the cracked road.

The MP was forced to sprint to keep up with his quick walk back inside to the lab. The body of the woman had been removed, thankfully. Now that the chase was over, he didn't think he could take seeing her. The only thought that helped was knowing that she had known what she'd gotten herself into when this had started. It didn't help much, but enough.

As he stepped onto the top of the stairs, the first thing he noticed was that Erskines body had also been moved. Either he'd been gone longer than he'd thought, or else they'd moved quickly to get things cleaned up, out of the public eye. His bet was the second.

The second thing he noticed was Howard, blood coating his hands, leaning against the wall leading to the small medical section of the lab, wide eyes staring blankly at the floor. His heart and he felt his stomach in his throat as he ran down the stairs and over to the man. Howard looked up, and Steve opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

His expression must have been obvious, because Howard smiled briefly.

"Don't worry, Steve. He was bleeding pretty bad, but they're taking care of him. Turns out he's pretty damn tough. Lot of internal bleeding, and that bullet tore him up pretty good, but as soon as they get it out of him, they'll stitch him up, no harm done. With a little rest, that is." Howard shook his head, and looked back down at the ground. "Just glad that it wasn't me who ran off after that bastard. You take him down, at least?" Steve nodded. "Good."

The lump in his throat slowly melted away, and his brain felt fuzzy. Tony would be ok. Thank God... at least he hadn't lost him too. He refused to let himself feel Erskines death. Now wasn't the time... he felt ashamed that he'd let himself get worked up about Tony. Of course he would be alright, he should have known. That didn't make it any easier for his mind to grasp the concept.

He ended up leaning on the wall next to Howard, just took nearly three hours before the remaining scientists and doctors decided that they needed him and brought him into another room of the medical bay to have his blood taken. It took about three vials of his blood before he realized that Peggy was there, staring at him.

He shifted uncomfortably as the needle was removed from his arm, trying to ignore her stare.

"Think you got enough?" he asked back to the nurse, who just shrugged and walked away from him.

Peggy sighed, and finally looked away from him. "Any hope of reproducing the program is locked in you're genetic code... But without Dr. Erskine, it would take years."

"He deserved more than this."

Now it was Agent Carters turn to shift uncomfortably. "If it could work only once, he'd be proud it was you."

Steve sighed, but nodded slightly and followed the woman out of the room when she motioned to him to come with her. They walked a shirt way out to one of the side rooms of the facility, where they'd managed to get the German Sub into. "...We're not even close to this technology... Tony might have been able to tell you more, but he's in no condition to do anything of the sort." He snorted and sounded a bit smug.

Senator Brant looked the machine up and down. "Then who is?"

"Hydra. I'm sure you've been reading our briefings." Not that Phillips sounded like he thought he'd read any, by the infliction of his voice.

The Senator glared at the man. "I'm on a number of committee's, Colonel." Before they could get into an actual fight, Peggy decided to jump in.

"Hydra is the Nazi deep science division." The Senator looked over to her, his eyes widening as he took off his cap. "It's led by Johann Schmidt, but he has much bigger ambitions."

Phillips nodded to her in greeting, completely ignoring Steve. He didn't mind, he was used to that, really. "Hydra is practically a cult, they worship Schmidt. They think he's invincible."

Brant tore his eyes away from Peggy, and looked back to Phillips. "So what are you going to do about it?"

Phillips smirked, and turned away from the man. "Spoke to the president this morning. As of today, the SSR is being re tasked."

Peggy and Steve both turned their heads to the man. "Colonel?" He ignored her.

"We are taking the fight to Hydra. Pack your bags, Agent Carter. You too Stark. We're flying to London tonight."

Peggy tried again. "Sir." She turned and walked away with a look back at Steve. Howard looked worried, for some reason, but Steve jumped in before he got a chance to say anything.

"If you're going after Schmidt, I want in." Schmidt was the reason Erskine was dead, and Tony was hurt, after all. But Phillips shook his head, glaring lightly at him.

"You're an experiment, you're going to Alamogordo." There was a snort from the end of the room, causing everyone to turn and look. Mumbling lightly under his breath, Tony stumbled fully into the room, refusing to use the walls or door to help keep his balance, Glaring angrily over at Phillips.

From just outside the door, a nurse shouted after him, "Sir, you shouldn't be moving, get back to bed."

Tony gave the woman a look mixed between a smirk and a glare, and slurred back, "Noted, and denied. I'm perfectly capable of walking. Shit, I feel fine."

The woman rolled her eyes, but didn't enter the room. "That's because you're pumped up pretty full of painkillers, meaning you need to get to bed." Tony shook his head, and the nurse threw up her hands and turned away from them.

Tony turned surprisingly alert eyes back to Phillips. "The Serum worked."

Phillips shook his head. "I asked for an army, and all I got was him." He turned, and pointed to Steve. "You are not enough." Steve glared, but his eyes widened as Tony laughed lightly.

"You'd be surprised." Phillips raised an eyebrow, and shrugged, and turned to Howard, looking at him expectantly.

"Sir, what about Tony. He's coming too, right? He could be useful." The Colonel considered it, then nodded, looking over to Tony. Steve's heart fell. He was the only one being left behind..?

"Actually," Tony raised an eyebrow at the man, "I'll be staying with Steve. He's my Captain, and I'm not about to abandon him to run off to Germany. Sir." Phillips eyes narrowed slightly, but nodded at the man respectfully, then turned and left the room. Howard was openly gaping at him, but Steve was relieved. He smiled briefly over to Tony, mouthing a 'thank you.' Tony didn't seem to be looking at him, but he still smiled back lightly and nodded. He really should be in bed. He looked just about ready to fall over.

Brant made his way over to Steve, and grasped his shoulder. He had to resist the urge to shake it off of him. "With all due respect to the Colonel, I think we may be missing the point. I've seen you in action Steve. More importantly, the country's seen it. The enlistment lines have been around the block since your picture hit the newsstands a few hours ago." He handed Steve a newspaper, a picture of him holding the car door in front of him plastered on the front page under the headline: "NAZIS IN NEW YORK, Mystery Man Saves Child"

"You don't take a soldier, a symbol like that and hide him in a lab. Son, do you want to serve your country on the most important battlefield of the war." Steve hesitated, and looked over at Tony. The other man winced slightly, but nodded briefly to him, frowning. He turned back to the Senator.

"Sir, that's all I want." The man grinned, making his stomach sink again.

"Then congratulations, you just got promoted."

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**Alright, a bit shorter than the last one. Would have had this up a day earlier, but right when I started to write one night, one of my longest friends called and well... he talks. A lot. As in from 22:00 (10pm) to 02:30. It was awesome, of course, people rarely talk like that on the phone anymore, but by the time he was done talking to me, I decided to just call it a night, seeing as I had shit to do the next day. Anyway, Hope you enjoy.**


	10. When power is useless

** Thank everyone for reviews and all of that. I haven't got much to say, here, other than this song makes me question my musical taste... but I've loved the band for years, so it can't be helped... then, I think it would be hard to find a Red vs Blue fan who doesn't like their music, seeing as it's written for and based on the show. Oh, and I shortened down how long Steves show went on. That wouldn't have progressed the story very quickly at all, if it had taken months to get them to the front lines. "**_I trust you at the wheel, even if we're going down." _Steady Ride(Gun Metal Green) Trocadero

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This was awesome. Truly, utterly amazing. In fact, other than the stitches in his side, and the fact that a _lot _of pain was coursing through most of his torso right now, it could be a perfect moment in his life. He didn't even mind that they didn't give him any painkillers after the surgery.

OK, that last one was a filthy lie, the only thing good about getting injured was the wonderful drugs, after all. Still, watching Steve stare at down at the red white and blue monstrosity they'd thrown him in, in absolute shock and horror was worth it. Almost.

"OK, I can't do this." Steves voice was shaky as he plucked at the loose material. "I... I can't."

Tony snorted, then winced. OK, laughing still wasn't a good idea. "Don't be so dramatic, Cap. I'll admit, that costume is rather un-finished and does about as much for your body as a spangly potato sack, but you still make a lovely show poodle." He smirked at Steves blush, but that's all he got from his comment. Huh, Steve must be getting used to him. He'd probably have to find a way to up that ante a little.

"Tony..?" His blush had started to fade, and it struck Tony how sad he suddenly looked, staring down at the outfit. He sat up from his comfortable position on his stomach, making pain rip its way through his body, which he stubbornly ignored.

"Steve, I was kidding, you look fine, you're not a show poodle...well, admittedly, right now, you are very much one, but still..." Tony panicked. He didn't know how to handle someone being upset... usually they just yelled at him, and they felt better... why wasn't Steve yelling at him?

"It's not that... I...Tony, _this_ isn't all I am, is it?" It took Tony a moment to react. Too long. Steve was talking again, and Tony didn't want to bother interrupting him. Hell, what could he even say? "I mean, you call me Captain, and I suppose I am, now, but... this? This isn't what I expected."

Tony wanted to laugh, and try to ease Steve, but he really didn't want to even think about laughing now that he was sitting up. Damn 1940's and their silly no painkillers for him rule... He blamed Howard.

Instead, he took a few short steps to place a hand on Steves shoulder, smiling down at the seated man as he looked up in surprise... Good, even injured, he could walk quietly. He'd have to thank Clint when he got home for teaching him that trick.

"Cap, this is..." He waved around him vaguely, "Is just a doorway for you. These assholes don't know your worth, really. Trust me, it will lead to something more, something better. Something you were actually made for." Steve looked away, a small smile quirking the side of his lips up.

"You know, that was a rather non-specific answer."

"Well, of course it was. I'm not about to give shit away for you, damn. I don't like to ruin _movies_ for people, why the hell would I do it for your life?" He sighed, squeezing Steves shoulder once, before releasing him, and moving away to sit down, trying to pretend not to see the disappointment in the man's eyes as he removed the hand. "You're just going to have to trust me here, Capsickle. You won't be in this for too long before you force people's heads out of their under-lubed asses."

"I always trust you Tony... wait, Capsickle?" Tony's eyes widened a fraction, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Nothing, Don't worry about it. Really, it's one of those things that's best not to know." Now Steve shifted uncomfortably, but decided to let it go, it seemed. Shit, he'd have to watch what he said from now on... this 'responsibility for the future' shit was a pain his the ass. Steve blushed again, then turned to look at him with the most ridiculously adorable kicked-puppy look on his face.

"Look, Tony, I didn't really get a chance to say this yesterday, but I'm sorry about..." This time, Tony had not trouble cutting him off.

"No. Just stop it. I detest apologies. You have no reason to be sorry, so just knock that shit off." Steve gave him an odd, half smile over his shoulder fondly.

"..You really don't like emotional confrontations, do you?"

"You can read me like a book, Cap. Now, lets indulge my discomfort, and drop this, shall we?"

Steve laughed, and shook his head. Tony sighed.

"I'm just... not used to it. It's decidedly uncomfortable to _discuss,"_ He shivered at the word, "the silly little bastards. Emotions, uhg." Steve gave him another look.

"It's not a bad thing to have emotions, you know."

"I know that. I am older and wiser than you, you know. Emotions are awesome, all that shit, but just because one has them, it doesn't mean one should talk about them." Steve laughed again.

"You're not very good with any sort of relationship, are you."

"Not one bit." They smiled at one another. "Seriously, though. You got this. You should go, punch 'old Adolf in the jaw,' and what have you. I'll be watching eagerly."

Steve sighed as he laughed, pressing one hand to his face. "I should have known you'd be getting some sick pleasure out of this."

Tony shrugged lightly. "Well, come on, it's not every day you get to see your teammate,"_-And childhood hero- _"Prancing around in a spangly outfit that could blind a monkey from space... oh wait, that's just about every day, for me. Never gets old, though."

"You're insane, you know that, right?"

"That's never been proven. Take _that_, 'Tasha." Steve looked away from him, down to the ground, mumbling a bit.

"That the name of your girl back home?" Tony laughed, then shuttered, then groaned from the pain, causing Steve to look at him, alarm clear in his bright blue eyes.

"Don't worry 'bout me, Cap, had worse..." He sighed as the pain slowly melted away to the back of his mind, sulking. "And hell no. I'd probably be insane to even think about going after her. You know, fun to stare at, but better fucking not get caught types. She's just a team-mate. Called Black Widow. Trust me, she has the name for a reason."

"...So, she was married at one point and killed the guy?" Steves eyes seemed impossibly wide, and Tony couldn't suppress another shutter, the pain angrily nipping at him again, not so violently, thankfully.

"Fuck if I know. _Probably. _I refer to the whole, 'if you don't see her first, and she decides to bite, you're dead' thing. If you do see her, it's more of a 95% chance you're dead. 4%, she'll only knock you the fuck out... one percent, you get lucky, and get away. Still, I should probably ask her at some point... then again, I really don't think that I want to know." Steve looked disturbed, then got distracted by the floor again. Seriously, was there something there that Tony wasn't seeing?

"So...You got one?"

"Got one what?" Tony stared intently at the spot on the floor in front of Steve. Fucking nothing there. Must just be thinking and worrying about the show, then.

Steve cleared his throat, and coughed slightly, "A... Uh, a girl."

Tony's eyes drifted to a wall, and bit down a sullen laugh. "Na, no good with relationships, remember? Besides, I'm Tony Stark. Tony Stark doesn't date. It's not expected of him."

Steve looked at him again, eyes still wide, this time with confusion. "You don't sound very happy about that..?"

Tony shrugged, suddenly finding that the part of wall he was staring at was the fucking most interesting thing he'd ever seen, and felt a mask drop over his face. Didn't seem to help his mouth guard itself, though. "Just gets boring, sometimes, I suppose."

"It sounds like you forgot how to pronounce 'lonely.'" Tony could have hit himself. Then again, he was in enough pain, thank you.

Looking back down to Steve, he winked, smiling sharply at the man. "Never knew the meaning of the word."

Steve opened his mouth, eyes strangely sad, probably to say something meaningful, but got cut off by the producer of the show-Tony had never bother to learn his name. After all, who the hell would care, when it was so very easy to get distracted by Steve. The suit really didn't fit him as well as it should have. That would have to be fixed right-quick.

"Rogers, curtain call. Means you're up, so hustle." Steve sighed, gave Tony an apologetic look before sprinting off. At least the suit hugged his ass well enough. Not that Tony was watching, of course. Shit, he didn't have a death wish.

Still, he had managed to give Steve an encouraging look filled with confidence before the man had run off. He'd be fine. Or, Tony would get to watch him break down and freak out on stage. Either way, a win-win for him, he thought, grinning to himself as he made his way around to the side-stage, so he could watch. This was going to be so great... shame even standing hurt.

* * *

As Tony had known, the show ultimately took off, Steve getting better each time. More annoyed each time, too, of course. Tony almost wished that he'd gone with Howard, or at least had something more to do when Steve was on stage, or rehearsing. He did that a lot, of course. It was his show, after all, but even Tony got bored of it after watching it about 7 times a day for a week... well, not bored, exactly, just... well, twitchy would be the word Steve threw around most.

Twitchy, itchy to make something. Something, anything, to mess around with. It annoyed the cast for the show to no end, beside Steve, who spent as much time just sitting and talking with him as his time allowed.

At the end of the week, and Tony having almost ripped his stitches three times-that they knew about- Tony finally got his hands on some raw materials for a project. The project, which he dubbed 'Mark-0' was to make at least parts of his Iron Man suit. His Glove repulsors were the top priority, of course. This show wouldn't last for long, though he tried to keep that much from Steve. Sure, he knew it wouldn't last long, but there was no need to tell him that he had, if Tony remembered it right, all of 6 days before they were off to tour in Germany. Then, the real fun would start, and Tony wasn't about to be dumped into the middle of World War 2 without some kind of badass tech.

...Well, close to badass. What would pass for extraordinarily badass in this time, at least. Maybe he'd throw in his boots, and at least fly a bit. But, without Jarvis there to monitor and control the energy streams and smooth over the power fluctuations, it wouldn't be a good flight... at all. He'd probably die, this time, if he tried. Might just stick to the gloves.

Well, he had something closer than what he'd used in the cave to what he really needed to make them effective, even if it wasn't the gold titanium alloy he was used to working with. It was passable, as long as he didn't decide to try to fly too fight up in the atmosphere.

Still, it took longer than he really would have wanted, seeing as they were always moving, from state to state, and he usually had to give Steve a prep-talk before the start of each show just to get him to go up. And then talking to him again after, and to help him get to sleep. OK, technically, he didn't have to. Steve certainly never asked him to. But what kind of teammate would he be if he didn't? Besides, It was actually really nice to have Steve not hate him, and to learn more about him in general. Not only that, but Tony never had to tell him anything back, really. He'd let a few things slip, of course, like when Steve would ask how the hell he was managing to wire the gloves, and tell the wiring apart, silly little things like that, but Steve never pushed.

That had been a rather pleasant surprise. He didn't think he'd ever had someone _not _grilling him over what he was doing 24-7, and convinced that he should talk about things that were better left buried.

It ended up that it took the two weeks that they were in the States to wire most of the gloves. No time to build covers. No time to fix connections that could be hooked up to their power-source, nothing. If he weren't so focused on talking to Steve and watching the show, he'd probably have been more productive.

But, really, he probably wouldn't even need them. This wasn't his century, not his fight. As much as he'd love to help, the technology just wasn't enough to bring the full fighting force of Iron Man to the 1940's. So, he decided to take it easy, take his time working these to make sure that they were perfect, without counting on Jarvis's notes. It made the work a touch harder, but he was fully capable. Besides, these were much better circumstances to do this sort of work than last time he'd done this without Jarvis...

OK, so not much better, but still. He was free, in a way. That was a plus. He wasn't being forced to work in an ill lit cave, another plus. Not being tortured, really. And he had Steve. That in itself made it jump from being tolerable to actually enjoyable. It was a little uncomfortable that Steve wasn't ordering Tony around like he usually had back home, but he didn't exactly mind. Much. He didn't like being forced to do anything, but Steve usually had good ideas pertaining to a lot of combat situations. Usually.

* * *

When they finally got to the front line, in Italy, it was... not as Steve expected it, it seemed. To be fair, Tony was shocked at the reception as much as he was. Who the hell would throw fruit at Captain America? He bet that that guy would feel like shit for the rest of his life as soon as Steve proved himself a hero. What was worse, Tony couldn't seem to hide from Steve just how nervy he was.

"Don't worry, pal, they'll warm up to you." Steve ignored the producer trying to encourage him, and stomped over to Tony, and motioned him to follow, his blue eyes pleading. Quickly, he put the gloves aside... he trusted no one would try and touch them after last time- the last guy's eyebrows were still missing, and me smelled of a sweet smoke that refused to leave his skin- and walked out into the rain with him.

"Need me to go try and beat up anyone? Won't be easy, but I could try, you know." Steve sighed, but smiled lightly at him before sitting on the stone under an awning.

"Na... not their fault. I really don't blame them... just needed the company. You're welcome to go back to your things if you want." his eyes begged him not to leave.

Tony settled down next to the man, probably too close to make Steve comfortable, but he didn't say anything. "Na, you're stuck with me. And it's OK to be pissed, you know." Steve pulled out his notebook and his pencil, smiling as he continued a sketch from earlier. Tony half thought that the only reason he was allowed to look was because of his reactor. Steve seemed to think very greatly of him for trusting him, even if he never said a damn word about it.

Stretched over the page was a uni-cycling monkey in full Captain America outfit. Tony's lips tightened, but he refrained from saying anything. He couldn't exactly argue about it right now, but he didn't have to like it. It was so peaceful, just sitting there, looking over Steves shoulder, the only noise being the rain and the movement of the pencil, drowning out most of the outside noise. So peaceful, in fact, that they both nearly jumped out of their skins when they heard a familiar females voice behind them.

"Hi Steve." They turned, and there was Peggy, standing, looking down at the wide eyed men expectantly.

"Hi." Good job, Steve. Use your words.

"Hi." Well, at least she wasn't doing much better. She smiled at Tony, who nodded back when she sat on Steves other side, pushing down the sudden flair of what felt like...Jealousy? No, of course not. Just discomfort, hopefully. She was, after all, one of the founding members of Shield, after all. Completely normal to not be comfortable around her. Especially when she tried to touch Steves arm.

Steve shifted, half an inch towards Tony, as if making room for her on the large stone under them. "What are you doing here?"

Peggy didn't seem to notice his shifting, but she shrugged. "Officially, I'm not here at all. That was quite a performance."

Tony and Steve both snorted at the same time... he was able to now, thank god. It was getting annoying that every time he tried, he'd become immobile. Steve looked up from his paper again, and smiled sadly over at her. "Yeah...uh, had to improvise a little bit. The crowds I'm used to are more..."

"12?" Tony raised an eyebrow at his back, and he saw him try to cover a laugh. This Steve definitely had a better sense of humor. He turned and nodded to Tony, smile growing much brighter. Then, maybe that was just Tony. Peggy seemed intent on ignoring the exchange.

"And I Understand that you're 'America's New Hope.'" Steves eyes grew angry, and he looked back down to his drawing, sullenly sketching.

"Bond sales take a ten percent bump in every state I visit." Peggy raised an eyebrow.

"Is that Senator Brant I hear?" Steve remained silent for a moment too long, so Tony decided to field this one.

"At least he has him doing this." Steve nodded.

"Phillips would've had me stuck in a lab... No offense, Tony, I'm sure that Labs are perfectly fun." Tony shook his head.

"No, no. I agree. _I_ wouldn't want to be stuck in a lab if I were you, or really at all, at this point in time. Not enough toys to be playing with." Peggy looked amused. And angry at the same time. Damn, she reminded him of Pepper, a bit, only strangely less yelly. And yes, yelly was a perfectly good word.

"And these are your only two options? A lab rat or a...dancing monkey?" she sighed. "You were meant for more than this, you know." There was an uncomfortably long silence that Tony forced him self not to break. It wouldn't be helpful right now, and he really needed to help Steve out, here. Finally, Peggy seemed to notice the odd looks that Steve kept giving her. "What?"

"You know, for the longest time, I dreamed about coming overseas and being on the front lines. Serving my country. I finally got everything I wanted... and I'm wearing tights." Tony put a hand on his shoulder. Steve didn't fully acknowledge it being there, but didn't move away or flinch.

In front of them, a horn beeped as a medical jeep slid to a stop in front of the tent, people all over yelling to clear the road. Steves eyes grew sad, and Peggy's remained calm. Tony wished that he knew how he looked. Hopefully it looked like he cared. He really did, honestly, but he'd spent so long in the business of it all that he was pretty well trained to look uncaring. He didn't want Steve to think that, though. It was doubtful that he'd even notice, given that he started talking again.

"They look like they've been through hell." Peggy nodded.

"These men more than most. Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano. Two hundred men went up against him and less than fifty returned. Your audience contained what was left of the 107th.* The rest were killed or captured." Steves eyes got wide, and Tony snapped over to stare at her, eyes wide, suddenly on his feet." As one, the two men almost yelled.

"The 107th!?" Peggy looked shocked, and confused as Steve joined him on his feet, and they both started sprinting over to the command tent.

"What?"

"Come on, Steve shouted over his shoulder. Tony shouldn't have felt as shocked about it all, seeing as he'd read all the comics as a child, knew the stories, but he hadn't expected it quite so soon. Between that and the fact that Steve had spent hours telling him about his best friend, Bucky, Tony should have been calm, but all it served to do was to worry him more.

They skidded to a halt in front of Phillips, soaked through due to the rain, and Steve was pale.

"Colonel Phillips!" The man paused from his paperwork for a second to glance up at them, them looked back down.

"Well, if it isn't the Star Spangled Man with a Plan, what is your plan today?" Steve paused at the infliction in the mans voice, probably trying to get his anger under full control before he said anything he'd regret. Too careful, silly Steve. So, Tony rolled right over him.

"I need the casualty list from Azzano." Phillips gave him a wide eyed look from his paper before turning it to a glare.

"You don't get to give me orders, son." Son? Well, that wasn't very nice. Or else, it was overly nice... he wasn't sure and he didn't really care.

Steve finally managed to get his voice back. Maybe he was worried that Tony would say something he'd get in trouble for.. "I just need one name, Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th."

Phillips turned away from him to look at Peggy. "You and I are going to have a conversation later that you won't enjoy." Steve ignores his.

"Please, tell me if he's alive, sir." Tony returned Phillips glare as he looked back to them.

"That B-A-R-"

"I can spell." They stared at one another.

"The try it." Phillips stood, and sighed, turning to grab a stack of papers.

"I have signed more of these condolence letters today than I would care to count. But, the name does sound familiar. I'm sorry." Steve looked so lost, so sad, all of the sudden, and Tony forced his mouth to remain shut to stop from telling him that Barnes would be fine... maybe something like that wouldn't hurt... then, A look that Tony recognized as what he called 'The Captain look' appeared on his face, determined.

"What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?" Phillips looked at him and snorted out a laugh.

"Yeah, it's called winning the war." oh, now Tony was pissed. Having been a captive before, tortured, he couldn't even think of not looking for them, not trying to help. It was a shitty situation for anyone. Steve must have read something in his eyes, because there was a large strong hand clenching his shoulder, not painfully, but enough to keep him from attacking the man. Well, physically, but Steve spoke over him again. OK, that shit was going to have to stop.

"If you know where they are, why not at least send..." then Phillips spoke over Steve. Damn, for as nice as people in the past were comparatively, they were real assholes.

"They're 30 miles behind the lines, through some of the most heavily fortified territory in Europe. We'd lose more men than we'd save. But I don't expect you to understand that because you're a Chorus girl." Tony moved forward before he could think about what he was doing, snarling at the man. Even more quickly, there was a large hand over his mouth, and a heavy arm across his chest, holding him effectively away from the Colonel. Well, he managed to drag Steve a step or two forward before the man frantically lifted his feet off the ground. Still, Steves voice was cold and angry when he spoke.

"I understand just fine."Tony stopped struggling enough for Steve to lower him back to the ground. Peggy just stared at the group with wide eyes, and mouth open slightly. Phillips had stepped back as Tony had powered his way towards him, but now forced a fake calm back over his face.

"Well, then, understand it somewhere else. If I read the posters correctly, you got some place to be in 30 minutes." He side-stepped them, and went to the other side of the tent. Tony could feel Steves jaw clenching in anger, and could almost feel him eyes as he stared at the wall... wait.. map. Of where the 107th where... ohhh, hell yeah. He relaxed, and smiled. Steve must have felt that he was no longer a threat, so he released him.

"Yes sir. I do."

"_yesss..._" He hissed under his breath as they strode out of the tent. Behind them, Phillips was muttering about something. Once they were a few feet away, Steve glanced back at Tony, blue eyes cold and on fire.

"Tony, I'm going to..." Tony waved it away.

"I know. We need to get gear." Steve's eyes became warmer for half a second as he smiled.

"You're not coming, you know..."

"Like hell I'm not. I follow my Captain. Well, when he makes sense." Steve just smiled brighter.

They had managed to get a pair of rifles and a few clips of ammo, Steve his shield, and Tony had snatched a blue helmet with a bright white A on it to shove in to his hands, when Peggy caught up with them.

"What do you plan to do, walk to Austria?" Neither of them turned to look at her.

"If that's what it takes."

"You heard the Colonel, your friend is most likely dead."

Tony glared at her. Way to talk him down, idiot. "You don't know that."

"Even so, he's devising a strategy, if he detects that..." Tony snorted an angry laugh.

"Not good enough." Steve nodded.

"By the time he's done that, it could be too late." They both turned with their gear, and left the tent to throw it into the waiting jeep that Tony had... found, Peggy right on their heels.

"Steve!" the huge man turned, and looked down at her, eyes growing softer.

"You told me you thought I was meant for more than this. Did you mean that?"

She looked into his eyes, and nodded. "Every word." Steve nodded, and turned away from her.

Tony looked over to her, sighing. Maybe she wasn't that bad, after all.. You're going to have to let us go, then." She looked at him, and a fire lit in her brown eyes, smile forming on her face as she looked at him.

"I might be able to do more than that." both men stopped, and gave her their full attention. "Tony, can you fly a plane, by any chance." He laughed, Glare swept completely off his face.

"I've spent most of my life working...rather closely, might I add... with the Air Force. What kind of question is that?" They both gave him confused looks, and he sighed, rolling his eyes. "Easy answer, Yes."

* * *

OK, the plane wasn't what he was used to. Not slick, not fancy, and definitely not worked with the fine motor control of more modern planes, much less his Iron Man gear, but he could fly it. Quite easily, really, surprising, given that the last time he'd flown a plane was when he'd been 15. after that, Rhodey usually convinced him to test the ones he made, and he had other people to do so other places.

Still, It was extremely weird that Howard was in the co-pilot's seat, asking for instruction on what to do. Still, it was unexpectedly nice to be the one flying again. In the cabin, Steve and Peggy were pouring over the maps.

"The Hydra camp is in Kreuzurg, tucked between these two mountain ranges. It's a factory of some kind."

Not taking his eyes from the night sky, he called back over his shoulder, "We should be able to drop right on their doorstep." then, more quietly to Howard, "Hopefully you'll get a hang of this by then, or you'll have a rough flight home." the man raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm going with him." Howard smiled and nodded. OK, very weird. Howard should not be smiling at him... creepy.

He could hear Steve chuckling from behind them. "Just get as close as you can. You guys are going to be in a lot of trouble when you land." Peggy laughed.

"And you won't?"

"Well, where I'm going, if anybody yells at me, I can just shoot 'em." Tony snickered.

"Oh, the injustice... would make life just so easy if he could shoot everyone who makes us angry." Everyone ignored him. He really didn't mind.

"They will undoubtedly shoot back." Obviously, Peggy. That's what people do in wars...

Steve tapped a hunk of metal against the plane. "Well, lets hope it's good for something."

Howard glanced back over his shoulder at them. "Agent Carter, if we're not in too much of a hurry, I thought we could stop off in Lucerne for a late-night fondue." He raised his eyebrows at the man.

"Really, Howard. Not necessary to say on front of your son." he wasn't exactly innocent in any sense of the word, or anything, but his father even having dinner with someone other than Maria was too disturbing to think about.

Steve shifted uncomfortably, trying to make conversation. "So, uh, do you two, I mean, do you... Fondue?" Tony's hysterical laughing filled the plane. Oh man, he was so clueless.

Peggy ignored what was going on, handing an electronic box over to Steve. " This is your transponder. Activate it when you're ready and the signal will lead us straight to you."

"Does it work?" Tony smiled.

"Doubtful." Howard glared over at him. That was better.

"It's been tested more than you, pal." Tony shrugged, about to say something clever... not sure what, just was going to wing it, but an explosion off to his left side distracted him, and his attention was fully on the air, carefully dodging the metal and gun-powder as it blew past them, and sent out waves of power as they exploded, knowing only where to dodge by the feeling in his gut. After he'd flown in a small suit so long, knowing that one of these things could hurt the hell out of him, he'd grown a sixth sense that really ended up helping. "Think we've been spotted in this junk heap."

He glanced behind him. Not like watching the window would help any. Steve was Standing, now, pulling on a chute. "Sit your ass down, Cap, We're taking you all the way in." Steve knelt by the door, pulling it open, and staring down into the exploding night sky.

"As soon as I'm clear, you turn this thing around..."

"No, I'm coming with you!" he couldn't move away from the controls, though... Howard didn't have the experience he did, and that wouldn't be good...Steve continued on, unaffected by the interruption.

"No, You gt these guys back to safety. Get them safe, and get the hell out of here."

Tony growled. "You can;t give me orders!" :Technically true, right now. He twisted around in his seat, hands steady, carefully avoid explosives without bothering to look. His anger faded as soon as he saw the gleaming smile that Steve was giving him, blue eyes lit up like crystal in the fading light of the fires, overwhelmingly bright and excited.

"Like hell I can't: I'm your Captain!" and with that, he jumped out, and Tony bit back a swear, but he sighed as the chute opened, and he was forced to turn the plane back as Peggy closed the door. Steve was right... these guys needed to be kept safe. Sometimes he hated being a hero...

Peggy's hand was on his shoulder, her eyes apologetic, but calm. "He'll be fine."

Tony smiled a bit. "I know. Well, Fuck." The explosions were finally growing lesser as the flew away. "Remind me to be pissed at Spangles when he gets back."

* * *

**Well, sorry it wasn't up sooner, and all, at least it's a bit longer... I'm usually not into Football, but... well, Colin Kaepernick went to College here in my city, and played for the Wolf ****Pack, so, naturally, everyone caught the fever of it around here and I **_**had**_** to watch... and of ****course watch Craig Ferguson after, so I skipped writing on Sunday. Also, I got to spend the whole game calling him Cap without anyone looking at me weird, so that's always fun. 49er's didn't win, of course, but he played valiantly. Now I feel like Thor... oh well, enjoy. **

*** Earlier in the story I messed up, thinking that it was the 104****th****. Just wanted to clear that bit up. **


	11. When you're alone

**This one is up much more quickly than the last one, as some of you probably noticed. The last one was still in my time limit I set for myself, but really last-minute. It's never very fun when I have to rush it. Also, for those of you who don't know some of the characters mentioned here, it's the Black Panther. Part of the Marvel universe, so I had to work it in. well, planned on it from the start, but more on that later.**

** This one is up now because I's going to be away for a few days, and not bringing my laptop with me, so if the next one is a few days late, sorry. Enjoy. **

** Anyway, Been a while since I had disclaimer, so everybody should know dialogue in this is partly(mostly) taken directly from the movie Captain America, and I don't actually own any of the characters. That is all. **

_ "Don't take this the wrong way, but I'd rather choke and die, than sit alone and fall without a fight." _Zombies ate my neighbors ~ Single File.

* * *

The flight back consisted mostly of Howard complaining, Peggy sitting silently behind them, and Tony explaining... a few times... why the hell they couldn't stop for food. By the end of it, he was almost beaten down enough to actually try and stop. Or throw him out of the plane. Mostly the food thing, though. He might not like the man, but he did like existing. Sure, he could get suicidal at times, but not _that_ suicidal... yet. If he had to put up with this asshole much longer without Steve as a buffer, who knew. Damn, the man was like a child, always whining. Maybe this was how people saw _him_ when they spent too much time around him.

Oh well, as long as he didn't have to deal with himself, he was fine with it. Wow, that sounded rather odd. No wonder he had a death wish...

The landing was smooth, as expected and only a few dents and scorch marks marred the surface of the plane. Not bad. What was slightly worse, however, was the angry looking men that stared at them as they exited. What was actually bad was when Colonel Phillips appeared, mostly expressionless, other than the fact that his eyes stared murder at them.

The man motioned to all of them to follow, taking them to the command tent before he started yelling at them. Tony had spent far too much time listening to Fury bitch and complain at him not to be able to block out what the man was saying. Something about Peggy being in trouble, Him and Howard being far too rich to touch, Steve being a poster boy, blah blah blah. Normal 'commander is pissed' crap.

After a while, Tony just decided to go for creep out factor, and stood there smiling at him as he tried threatening all of them.

Finally, it seemed to be too much for the man to take. "OK, why hell are you just smiling at me!?"

If anything, his smile grew wider. "Oh, I just think it's cute that you seem to think that you have any control over me." Colonel Phillips just stared at him as he walked away, whistling calmly. It probably rare that someone shut him up in such a manner, but Tony had always been able to deal with Rhodey, so this man was hardly a problem.

Howard took about two second to catch up with him, Tony's only slightly longer legs somehow forcing the other man to walk quickly in order to keep up with him. It was still really dark out, luckily, so they didn't run into anyone else. He managed to get his gloves quickly, as well as his tools before Howard spoke.

"You know, you never did give me those plans you promised me." He gave him a confused look before remembering. Right, Arc Reactor. Must have forgotten about that in the confusion that had followed.

"Ah. Right." He considered for a second, before grinning at the man. "I'll be happy to... If you do something for me, first." Howard looked wary.

"Depends on what that would be."

"Oh, don't worry. Nothing huge, just need some metal for a project." Howard perked up a little, relaxing..

"Sure. Not a problem. What do you need, if we have any, it's yours." Tony tried not to let his smile get too much wider.

"Well, I just so happen to know that you do have some. Just need some Vibranium." At that, Howard went pale, and stopped in his tracks.

"Tony... you do realize that that's an extremely rare metal, right?" Tony shrugged.

"Well, I also know that you don't have the ability to use it, seeing as that bitch is an impossibly difficult metal to work with. _I_ just so happen to know how to use it correctly." Howard still looked conflicted. Tony sighed. He was about to make this very easy for the man. "It's for Steve. Trust me, he'll need it."

He was right, Howard almost immediately agreed to give him the small amount of metal that they had managed to get from Wakanda. The metal was oddly warm, shining the rich purple of it's natural state. After it had been properly treated, heated and manipulated into the state, it would shine a cold steely silver.

It was a pity that the King of Wakanda, T'Challa, held onto the precious metal with as tight of a hand as he did. The use of a vibration absorbing metal was limitless. The man had once explained it to him that Wakanda was its guardian and the rest of the world was not prepared to handle what it represented for the future. Talking with T'Challa was always pleasant, seeing as the man was one of the only people in the world even close to his level of intelligence. Not that the King would talk to anyone else, often, or about his country like he did with Tony. And Tony wasn't inclined to question why. Must be something to do with Howard.

He really wanted to see the look on Fury's face when he found out that Tony was able to speak to the reclusive King of the legendary Country that had never been seen by anyone save the Wakandans just about any time he wanted to... that would be hilarious.

The process of creating the shield wasn't very difficult, really, now that he actually knew how to manipulate it. Not nearly as difficult as it had been when making the small piece for his reactor. Still, it was a rather long process, needing very little watching. So, in between adjusting power levels and heat being poured into the Vibranium, he drew out the plans of the original Reactor, explaining every piece to Howard.

He considered warning the man not to work with Vanko on it, but who knew what kind of consequences for his future if he did. So, doing something he'd never been good at, he shut the hell up about it.

The a though struck him. It was really a shock he hadn't though of this before...

_ 'Holy shit.' _Tony simply stared at the blueprints to the reactor as he drew them out for his father, who crouched next to him, staring at the elegant lines with rapt attention to what was laid out before him. _'_I'm_ the genius that I've always admired and tried to be... that's fitting.'_

_ F_or most of the night, Howard sat in the room with him, Working on blocky, "Advanced" shields once he learned what Tony was doing.

"Give him a choice," He said. "Maybe Steve wouldn't want a thin, useless piece of metal," He said. Tony knew better, and was content just smirking to himself as Howard tried to outdo him. He himself might have been working on a crazy, high-tech shield, too, if he hadn't known exactly what Steve would choose. He was too old-fashioned for any of these, after all. They didn't allow for him to move as freely as Captain America would need to.

When the metal of the shield was finally ready, Howard had been in his bed for nearly an hour, So Tony was able to quickly pound and press the metal into the right shape in silence. He'd kill for some good music. Every few hours, he'd go outside, and just breath. Being so alone, working in such a confined space with so little noise was too like being back in that damn cave.

He had slept two or three times since being here, usually over whatever had been his work-desk for those nights, never more than 3 hours. He knew he'd actually have to _sleep_ sleep soon, instead of the little naps, but it wasn't going to be that night. He would refuse to admit under torture, but he was worried about Steve... Sure, the stories, and comics about him said that he'd be back, perfectly fine, but stories lied. They left things out. If Steve had been hurt... Well, if he'd been hurt, the Hydra should be quaking in their boots.

After setting the shield aside to cool properly, and on it's own terms, he picked up the gloves, carefully fitting one over his un-injured hand, and slowly worked on the wiring. Vibranium responded badly to being quenched, in anything from salt water to olive oil. It didn't need to be tempered, not even T'Challa knew why, but doing so would give a variety of results, salt water making it brittle enough to fall apart if dropped, oil making cracks through the entire thing, the smallest vibration literally shaking it apart. Simple water just made it as effective as any normal steel, unable to absorb any shock.

He got so lost in the work, the smell of burning hot metal, that he didn't realize it when his mind came up with the answer. Wakanda... they were the most advanced place on earth, that much had been clear, speaking to T'Challa. If anyone had the answer to his problem, they would. And T'Challa had been trying to convince him to come and see the Country for years... it was perfect. Except...

Except he didn't want to leave Steve to these wolves, alone. Not yet, not until he would be ok with someone not being there... or until the ocean swallowed him, at least. So, he shoved Wakanda to the back of his mind, and continued to mess with the wires until the sun finally began to rise.

* * *

Steve was sore. That was really the only problem, though. Just sore, maybe a bit singed, but he'd seen Tony take full on burns without even seeming to notice, so he wasn't about to complain about that. Other than sore, he was incredibly happy. Relieved, really. Bucky was alright, very tired from having his energy drained, but he was getting better with every limped step alongside Steve.

Bucky refused to ride the tank they'd taken, stubbornly insisting he could walk, and keep up with Steve, thank you very much. Not a Tony type stubborn either, which Steve actually decided he liked better. Bucky looked like hell, complained every now any then about his leg, vowing to hurt whoever had injured it, but looked so affronted when someone _suggested_ that he rest. With Tony, you wouldn't have even known he was hurt until he collapsed. Steve doubted that even Tony would know he'd been injured until his own legs gave out from under him. It wasn't really healthy, but he admired that ability to completely ignore things that didn't matter right now.

It wasn't the first time he'd drifted off into thought on the walk back, and when he remembered that he'd been talking to Bucky, drifting off midway through a sentence, usually by being smacked on the arm, he was very glad that there was only a small amount of light. Even not seeing his blushes, Bucky was intrigued. One of the most amazing things about Bucky: He waited for Steve to bring it up. After he'd tried avoiding it, he finally broke down after the fourth time he was called back to reality, and started telling Bucky about Tony.

Just a friend that he'd managed to make that was sticking by his side. Interesting and confusing, he'd been getting caught up in thought about some of the things he'd say, that was all. Not exactly a lie... A ton of what Tony said, he didn't understand. Bucky didn't need to know more than that...

Yet, he found himself telling the entire story to his best friend about Erskine, and how quickly Tony had jumped after the shooter, how the man was always messing around with that mass of wires fashioned into a glove and just Tony in general, really. How well the two would get along, how, surprisingly Howard didn't get along with him, how he'd almost attacked Phillips. The last caused Bucky to stumble in shock, them break down laughing for a quarter-mile.

The sun was just starting to rise when Steve decided that he was too tired to keep talking, Super-Soldier or not, he didn't know how Tony managed to do it. The nearly toxic levels of coffee the man somehow devoured on an empty stomach was probably a huge part of it. The one time he had seen Tony sleeping, it was over a make-shift desk, arms covering as much of his head as he could, deep breaths not quite a snore, but loud enough to inform him that there was no way Tony was awake. Other times, the man seemed intent on being able to move completely silently, enjoying sneaking up on Steve far too much for Steve to be comfortable with.

The second that Steve had been within an arm length from Tony, he'd started awake, blinked up at him with slightly cloudy eyes, then rushed off to devour more coffee. It had been strange, it was like all of Tony's walls had been down for a minute or two after he'd woken up, and Steve really couldn't tell if it had made Tony look older or younger. Not that Tony had ever looked old, to Steve. Certainly not 40.

It was about mid-morning by the time they finally got to the gate, the crowd of soldiers waiting for them just stared in shock, a few assorted cheers making there way up to the front of the group. Steve was exhausted, wanting nothing more than to fall over on his bed and sleep for the next year, wishing that the transponder hadn't been broken beyond all use. A ride back with Tony would have been perfect, last night. Tony, a pilot, who knew?

Still, he marched through the gate with his head up, shoulders back, and stride even. If he was going to be taken seriously, here, which he needed to be, he couldn't afford to look weak, something that Tony had explained to him when he'd asked how he hid the pain of the stitches in his side the day after getting them. Bucky raised an eyebrow at his sudden change, but didn't say anything, but seemed to be trying to hide his limp, now. Maybe he'd come to the same conclusion.

The crowd parted for the group, and made way for Colonel Phillips as he made his way up to his, Peggy at his side. No sign of Tony... unfortunate, he usually managed to distract him enough to keep himself from doing something stupid like trying to hit the man. That had to be the only reason why his heart sunk a little... oh, there was no need to lie to himself, really. Still, it was comforting.

Still, he saluted sharply to the man, preparing himself for what he was about to do.

"Some of these men need medical attention." he took a deep breath as men in the crowd rushed in, shouting for medics. "I'd like to surrender myself for disciplinary action." Bucky jumped, and stared at him, wide-eyed. Peggy winced.

Phillips looked like he'd expected as much, and was unfazed by it. Until he smiled. Just slightly, barely there at all, but unmistakable.

"That won't be necessary." Steve stared at him, shocked for another second, waiting for him to change his mind, then smiled back, and nodded. "I'll need to debrief you as soon as you're rested, Rogers."

"Yes, sir." The Colonel nodded, and turned to walk away, shouting over his shoulder as he made his way through the crowd again.

"You have some pretty impressive friends, Rogers. Don't let Stark know I said so, though. He's already impossible to deal with, without you here to keep him in check." There was a half laugh from the other side of the crowd, one that was unmistakably Tony's.

Peggy started towards him, but one glance at Tony stilled her, as he swept calmly through the crowd, people moving out of his way without even thinking about it, saluting him. Which he ignored...or didn't notice. He did have that sort of presence, and he rarely seemed to realize it. He waited until he was a step away from Steve before looking up at him, away from the device circling his arm, caramel eyes angry and calm, face blank, eyes tracing him up and down, as if searching for any hint of injury.

Luckily, his voice was filled with a gentle, teasing amusement that convinced Steve that he wasn't mad at him. That halted any thought of apologizing Steves mind was trying to come up with.

"You're late." He tilted his head to one side slightly when he finally met Steves eyes with his own. Amused, maybe, but the man sounded more tired than Steve could ever remember. It didn't stop the words from sounding silky, though.

Steve pushed that out of his head, and smiled at him, impishly, as he pulled out his transponder, a considerable chunk missing from it.

"Couldn't call my ride." Tony chuckled lowly at the, half a grin spread on his face.

"Tried to tell you the thing was a piece of junk." Bucky couldn't look more confused. When he noticed Steve staring at him, amusement clear in his eyes, he forced out a laugh and a smirk.

"Let's hear it for Captain America!" The crowd around them started cheering, slapping Steve on the back, but the noise just flew past him, allowing him to clearly hear Tony muttering at him.

"Told you it would be fine. Don't doubt me so much." As he winked, then turned and again parted the crowd, glancing back and gesturing at Steve to follow. Which he did, as did Bucky, much to Steves pleasure and surprise. He really hadn't been lying when he's said he'd hoped the two would get along. Once they'd cleared the crowds, Tony slowed his flowing pace enough to allow the other two to catch up and fall into step next to him, stifling yawns behind dirty hands.

"You two need to go to sleep." They both shot the man a look, Bucky's more curious, Steves insulted. How was Tony the person to tell anyone to sleep..? Tony just glanced at them both, a spark of amusement barely shining in his eyes. They seemed more dull than usual. Still, he smiled at them. "You both look more exhausted than I feel. Which, trust me, is quite a feat."

Ah, that made sense. Steve couldn't help but notice the normal energy rolling around him was lethargic. Oh course he was tired, the man never slept! No wonder he was crashing a bit. Steve rolled his eyes, throwing a quick disapproving look onto his face to hide his worry.

"You didn't get any sleep last night, did you." There was nothing in his tone Tony could possibly take for a question.

The man's smirk got deeper. "Come on, Cappy, do you even _know_ me at all?" Then he yawned into his hand. "Shit, sleep does sound good, though." Bucky nodded.

"Shit, Sorry, man, I'm Tony. I'd shake your hand, but can't really, right now." He gestured to the wires with his other hand, still healing wound clearly in view. Bucky nodded, raising an eyebrow at it, but smiled softly.

"Sergeant James Barnes. You can just call me Bucky, since you're a buddy of Steve's." that earned another tired chuckle from Tony.

"Ah, Bucky, huh? Neat. Have heard a lot about you." Bucky just laughed back. When they finally got to the barracks, almost every bed was full, some cots even having two people squeezed in. the only two cots that remained untouched were obviously saved for Steve and Bucky, for which Steve was thankful.

He took off the ridiculous costume, leaving him standing only in his shorts and a light tan PT shirt. Bucky didn't bother getting ready, and just fell into his cot with a huff. Tony yawned widely, then lay down on the ground in front of them, oddly content smile lighting his face. Steve blinked down in confusion at him before shaking his head.

"What do you think you're doing?" Tony cracked one eye, gazing up at him, confused.

"Uh, sleeping. Seriously, you're the one always attacking me because apparently I don't do it enough." Steve rolled his eyes down at him, ignoring the way Bucky was staring at him from his position on his stomach, pillow hugged up to his face. Was he...smiling? No, couldn't be.

"On the floor? Really, Tony" Tony's smile just got wider, his eye sliding closed again.

"I've slept on worse. Besides, only going to take a quick cat-nap. I have shit to do." Steve shook his head, and worried his lip of a second before making a decision.

Before he could manage to talk himself out of it, he leaned over, and scooped Tony up, ignoring the startled jump the smaller man made.

"What..?" Steve plopped him down onto his cot, then sighed as he walked around to the other side, and lay down flat next to him, drawing up the blankets to cover them both.

"It's the Army, Tony. Sharing a bed will hardly kill me. Not like I don't have to all the time." Still, he couldn't smile off of his face, hoping that no one around could see it. He had a feeling it looked just a little crazy. Or the blush, for that matter. That was just weird.

"But.."Steve laughed, and cut him off.

"Go to sleep, Tony." the man next to him shifted, and sighed.

"Fine." A chuckle. " 'Night, Cap. Night Bucky." They both murmured back at him, all three more than half asleep.

* * *

** The ending wasn't meant to be this rushed, but I wanted to get this one up before I left for a few days, since I have no damn idea when I'll actually be back. So Congratz, you guys get an early chapter. Good this I haven't been able to sleep lately, or this one would be super late. As a negative, it isn't spectacularly long.**


	12. When you learn

**The good thing about having an ex-Army boyfriend: "Working out" usually means fighting. Which always ends up being a metric shit top of fun, even if he manages to kick my ass. Still, it's extremely useful to be able to fight, in bad situations.**

** Sorry that this chapter took such a long time to get up, been rather distracted, not with anything in particular, just not in much of a writing mood, which is why if the next chapter might be a bit slow to come out as well. Turns out when I'm in this type of mood, I just watch old tv shows and a ton of movies.**

"_All I ever want to be is everything...Everything at once." _Everything at once ~ Lenka

* * *

The sent that filled the air next to Steve was unavoidably, totally and completely Tony: a mix between coffee and white-hot metal. A rather bitter sent, both very subtle, in their own way, but altogether overpowering. There was nothing overly sweet about his sent, but Steve couldn't get enough of it. He'd woken up early to the feeling of warmth pressed against his chest, and it took him a second to remember why.

As soon as he did, he blushed, and slowly moved to untangle his arms from where they had twisted around Tony's thin frame, trying not to move him too much. Luckily, his movement didn't cause any change in Tony's deep breaths and the man didn't move, so he figured he was in the clear. Steve just took a minute to stare at him, in the dark, rather creepily, he noted, before he sighed and gently got off of the cot.

He wished he could stay and just enjoy being to near the man, but he did have to be debriefed by Phillips. Besides which, it was probably a good idea to get out of the room and take care of a certain problem that seemed to have arisen while he was asleep before anyone else got up and noticed. If he hadn't already blushing as badly as he was, it probably would have gotten worse.

A very...personal...shower later, Steve was finally starting to wake up. When he got back, Tony was out of bed, stretching, blinking sleepily. It had to be the most adorable thing Steve had ever seen... not that he'd ever say that out loud.

It took about three seconds for Tony to see Steve standing there, and smiled at him, not a normal smile, a 'I'm tired as hell, coffee, now' smile. Steve had been trying to ignore the fact that coffee seemed to be just about the only constant with Tony. He had the feeling Tony would have a heart attack if he ever found out that he himself was more of a tea person.

Still, he smiled back, and went to grab the man some coffee. He never really had to, but he liked being nice. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Bucky sitting up as well, rubbing his eyes sleepily, and grabbed another cup full of the stuff.

He handed the two cups over to the men, and went about getting ready for his debriefing...which mostly just consisted of getting his boots on-thankfully, he'd dressed when he'd been fresh out of the shower- and try not to be too nervous. Phillips hadn't taken any negative action against him yesterday... likely he hadn't changed his mind. Hopefully.

Tony had quickly taken the cup, and murmured something that Steve chose to take as a thank you, then drained the cup in matter of seconds, stubbornly ignoring the fact that the liquid had been scalding hot and had probably burnt the hell out of his mouth.

Bucky raised the drink to his mouth and took a sip, before sputtering, coughing dramatically.

"What he hell is this?" Tony raised his eye brow at him, and responded before Steve got his mouth open. At least the man looked a lot better than he had the night before.

"It's coffee, duh. I thought that you 1940's guys liked your 'Cup of Joe' and all." Bucky gave him a weird look, and moved to ask something before just shaking his head, and setting the coffee away from him.

"Too bitter for me right now. Don't happen to have any sugar over there, do you?" Steve shook his head, and Bucky sighed. "Oh well." He gave the cup an annoyed look, then started when he noticed Tony staring at it, looking like he was about to pounce. Carefully, he lifted it and handed it to the dark man, like he was a wild animal.

Which, this early in the morning, Steve had to admit, he might as well be. Tony snatched the cup and drained it, happily, before smiling at Bucky in thanks. Bucky just nodded, looking confused and a little bit scared as the other man slid out of the cot, stretching. Steve just smiled and rolled his eyes.

"Don't worry, Buck. I think Tony's veins carry coffee instead of blood." Tony stuck his tongue out at him, which Steve returned along with a smirk. Tony stifled a laugh as he bent over to retrieve clean cloths of his own... Thankfully clothing of off of his own his size had been easy enough to get, even when they'd been traveling around. He'd seemed rather annoyed whenever Steves baggy clothes would get caught in some machine or another.

Bucky finally sighed, and slipped out of his own cot, and slowly started to pull new clothes out, trying to hide the fact that he was wincing. Steve decided not to press it. He really didn't want to get debriefed alone. If that made him a coward, so be it.

"So, Buck. Any plans this morning, by chance?" the man looked over at him.

"Why? And don't bother saying 'no reason,' I see those puppy dog eyes you're giving me." Steve blushed and looked down at his boots. At least it was only Bucky and Tony listening to him...

"Uh, I really...don't want to go to Phillips alone. I was hoping you'd come with me, maybe?" Bucky looked at him, and winced.

"Sorry, Steve, I really would love to come see that meeting, really, but I need to go to medical." He sighed, not even trying to hide the look of disappointment.

"Ah, well. Don't worry about it..." He brightened up again, turning his gaze on a now much more awake Tony. "Tony, do you happen to have anything to do this morning?" The man snorted, still not glancing at him.

"I really should be getting back to the lab, I have a little project that.. you'll..." He finally stuttered to a stop, seeing the pleading eyes that Steve shamelessly had equipped. Then the man sighed "I suppose I can put it off for now. Want me to come with you?" Steve nodded frantically enough to force a muffled laugh out of Bucky. Tony sighed again to cover a yawn.

"We should probably be going then." Steve winced. Damn... He'd forgotten that Tony would much rather get things over and done with quickly if he didn't have to be pulled away from whatever gadget he happened to be working on. Maybe it would be better to put it off for a while longer... Tony seemed to read his mind.

"Oh, no you don't, come on, no use procrastinating. Wow, is this what people feel like when they try to get me to do shit in the morning? No matter, we should do this, so that we can get on with the day, at least." With that, Tony stood and started for the door, leaving Steve with the choice of facing Phillips alone or facing Phillips now. He didn't take long to make that decision as he sprinted out after Tony, Bucky's laughter following the two out of the door, earning not a few odd looks from the men just now beginning to wake up.

It didn't take long to catch up with Tony, even with his crazy fast ground devouring pace, and it took even less time to find where Phillips was, simply asking someone in passing. It would have been nice if it had taken longer... Still, now that he was in front of people actually paying attention to him, looking and listening to him, he showed no hesitation in making his way to where the man was supposed to be, into one of the only standing structured in the camp, a large stone building amidst the sea of wide, tall tents.

Tony's commanding presence and matter-of-fact stride demanded the soldiers walking through the streets scrambled to get out of their way, but the way they looked at them, they seemed to have eyes only for Steve. It seemed that tales of what had happened had thoroughly spread through the camp while they had sleep. Tony didn't seem to mind, or even notice the attention that was being given to them. Then. He was a Stark, as Steve so often forgot...or, overlooked, rather. He must be used to this type of reaction to his presence.

As it turned out, Steve never really should have worried. Phillips had apparently not changed his mind about letting Steve off the hook and actually barely looked up when the two had entered. Spread out ahead of them, taking up most of the room, was a large, eight-sided table sporting a massive, well detailed map with present locations of both the Allies and the Axis powers marking it. Only a few of the tiny markings had the symbol of Hydra stamped on them, certainly none of the ones he'd seen on the map of the Hydra camp were marked.

Taking his time, he studied the massive layout, as Tony yawned, still blinking sleepily despite the coffee he'd devoured, and moved slowly around the room, coming over with a surprisingly gentle look every time Steve started to worry. How he knew he was worried beat Steve, but he wasn't about to complain.

Finally Phillips came over to him, and addressed his presence, though he seemed to shy away from Tony without actually looking like he was running. Tony's smirk kind of gave it away, though. Steve caught himself being curious, but quickly shrugged it off as just one of those things he was probably better off not knowing.

"Ok, Rogers, normally I'd have you go through every little detail, but we're running a little low on time, so lets jump into it. DO you have anything that could actually help us out?" Well, that was refreshing, he supposed. He'd expected a mountain of paperwork and a few hours recalling what had happened.

The man had already started moving away, completely lost on the conversation before Steve could answer. Tony's face seemed irritated. "Actually, Sir, I might." he spun back around, and raised an eyebrow.

"Well." Steve pushed down his irritation and clamped a hand down around Tony's wrist, shooting him a warning look before he could jump into the conversation. He seemed to have a talent for pissing the Colonel after all.

"There was a map. There were..." He paused, eyes closed to remember through the haze of the other night. "Six places marked that aren't on your map here." Phillips just nodded to the map, handing him the pencil that he was holding. Closing his eyes again, he marked down the easiest ones to remember, mumbling to himself. The last two were a bit harder to recall, but it didn't take him more than a few seconds to figure out their location.

"The fifth one was here, in Poland, right near the Baltic. And the sixth one..." He stretched across the table, hoping that the table could handle a little bit of his weight, "Here, 30, 40 miles west of the Maginot Line." A quick glance around the room showed everyone staring intently at each of the marks. He couldn't help but smirk... Being an artist really helped, sometimes. "I just got a quick look."

Tony returned his smirk, accompanied by a roll of the eyes. "Well, nobody's perfect." Steve smiled, and tried to ignore the odd look Peggy gave him from across the room.

"So, these are the weapons factories we know about?" Phillips nodded. "Sergeant Barnes said that Hydra shipped all the parts to another facility that isn't on this map." Phillips nodded again, this time, slowly, and he turned to the agents across the room.

"Agent Carter, coordinate with MI-6, I want every Allied eyeball looking for that main Hydra base." Peggy nodded back, not tearing her eyes from Steve.

"What about us?" Phillips began moving around the table, pointing over to her.

"We are going to set a fire under Johann Schmidt's ass." He moved his finger over to Steve. "What do you say, Rogers? It's your map, you think you can wipe Hydra off of it?" Steve forced down a grin, and shifted his eyes quickly over to Tony, who had a secretive grin plastered on his own face and winked up at him.

"Yes, Sir. I'll need a team." Phillips looked down at the paper in his hands.

"We're already putting together the best men." Steve smiled.

"With all due respect, Sir, so am I." Phillips sighed.

"Fine. Just run them by me first, I'll have to check them out, but it should be fine. You guys are welcome to go, Rogers, I'll be seeing you later, I will still need a full debriefing at some point." Steve nodded, and turned, still trying to shrug off the feeling of Peggy's eyes following him.

Luckily Tony decided to follow him out on his own without him having to be dragged out. Then, he wasn't really very interested in a lot of what was going on. He also seemed to be mumbling under his breath, nothing that Steve could understand. As soon as they were out of the building, Tony caught his arm.

"Hey, thanks for giving up half your bed and I hate to sleep and run, you know, but I have to get back to that so called 'lab.' Is it cool if I go? You good?" Steve stuttered for a second, but managed to smile.

"Yeah...yeah, I'm good, and hey, thanks, Tony. I... appreciate it." Tony nodded and then stumbled off muttering something about 'needing a metric shit ton of coffee' is he were to be productive today. Steve definitely didn't watch him walk away... Well, not for long. There really was something wrong with him...

He felt a hand settle on his shoulder, and he managed to jerk his eyes away from the direction that Tony had long since disappeared from over to Bucky. The smaller man was staring off in the same direction. He looked the smaller man over. He didn't seem to be in too bad of shape, really, just a bit of bandages barely viable from under his coat.

For a few minutes they didn't talk, just stared. Bucky was the one to break the silence, of course. "Come on, man. We're going to go into town and get a drink with the guys." Steve sighed, and nodded, not bothering to bring up the fact that it wasn't even noon yet. He was having trouble wrapping his head around the fact that they'd managed to sleep as long as they had.

The drive itself wasn't very long, really, no more than a half an hour in a jeep Bucky had borrowed. Steve really hoped he'd _borrowed_ it instead of "borrowed" it. The first few minutes of the ride consisted of Steve staring off into the woods, silently, trying to get his mind away from his other, presently absent friend and not noticing Bucky's worried eyes as they glanced at him every few seconds. Again, it was Bucky who finally broke their silence.

"Seriously, Steve, you ok? You just keep zoning out and shit.." Steve quickly shook his head sharply to jerk himself out of his thoughts and smiled over at his friend.

"Don't worry, I'm fine. Just...thinking." Bucky relaxed slightly.

"Care to tell me what about? You always get too thought up in thinking about shit that you don't need to be. Maybe I can help." Steve snorted. 'doubt it.' But after a quick roll of his eyes...one that he made sure that Bucky didn't see... he frantically thought of anything that he could actually talk to the man about. They were best friends, and he talked to Bucky about almost everything... it would be weird if suddenly he didn't.

"It's.. the team. I'm really worried that they won't go for this.."

"Ok, wait, what is this about a team?" Steve blushed. Of course he didn't know what had happened with Phillips. The real object occupying his mind was the one that had gone with him. He quickly explained what had happened and how now that he'd insisted, he would have to convince the guys he'd broken out the other night. Bucky looked at him after he'd finished.

"So that's what happened..." Steve let him see his eyes roll this time. Not that it really had any effect on him.

"You were there for most of that, Buck." Bucky sighed, and glanced back to the road.

"Honestly, I can't remember much. Snippets of fighting and walking. And you being a freaking giant, damn glad that I remembered that part. Just imagine the shock of waking up to see that. It was already enough that there was some strange guy I've never met in your bed..." Steve gave him an odd look.

"You met Tony before we all passed out. Remember, he tried to sleep on the floor?" Bucky just shrugged and shook his head.

"I told you, man, I remember you telling me stories on and off walking home, fighting and a few other things, but the second we hit that gate, blank." he paused a second to glance slyly over at Steve. The look worried him... "So, that was Tony, huh?" Steve cleared his throat, and glanced back, hoping that he wasn't blushing. He didn't think he was that luck. What was lucky, however, was the fact that Bucky let himself be distracted without complaint.

"So, the guys...?" Bucky just laughed as they pulled up to the front of an old brick pub, and he shut the jeep off.

"Steve, those guys are idiots, eager to get back out there. You have nothing at all to worry about." Steve sighed again and slid out.

"If you're sure." they walked in to find the group in question crowded around a small table, all having paused whatever conversation they'd been having paused as they glanced at him and Steve. His worry that he wouldn't be welcomed was quickly put to rest when they all smiled up at him, smacking their shoulders, and pulling them down to sit with them.

Bucky stayed and chatted with them for an hour or two before he gave Steve a pointed look, and left the table to go sit at the bar. When Steve glanced over at him, he just mouthed 'Get on with it.' so, he finished a drink...beginning to suspect that he just _couldn't_ get drunk... he'd been drinking pretty hard, and he wasn't even feeling a buzz... and he quickly explained the situation to the group. They stared at him for what felt like an eternity but probably turned out being a few seconds. Then one of the men, Timothy Dugan, a large man who insisted on wearing a bowler hat indoors laughed.

"So, let's get this straight: we barely got away the last time and you want us to go back?" Steve had a sinking feeling in his gut, but he kept his face as straight as possible as he nodded.

"Pretty much." The Englishman of the group... James Falsworth... smirked over at the two before speaking.

"Sounds rather fun, actually." the sinking feeling all but evaporated as the others quickly agreed in very similar manners. He shouldn't have been worried... of course Bucky was right. Dugan was the last to finally sigh.

"Hell, I'll always fight. But you got to do one thing for me." Steve almost snorted as the man drained the rest of his beer.

"What's that?" The large man looked at him seriously, only not pulling it off because of a smile that forced its way through his drunken haze. Oh yeah, he was definitely the only sober one here...

"Open a tab." Steve laughed, but quickly stood to gather the mugs, and went to the bar before they could change their minds.

"Where are they putting all this stuff!?" the bartender shook his head and laughed as he filled the mugs, giving astounded looks over the taps. Steve just shrugged, still smiling. That hadn't actually been as hard as he'd thought that it would be.

When the man finished pouring the rounds, he carefully gathered them all up, and put them on the table, earning appreciative looks from the five at the table, but instead of sitting back down, walked over to Bucky. The jerk didn't even look up at him as he sat down, smirking into the small glass tumbler resting in his hand.

"See? I told you they were idiots." Steve smiled over at him.

"How about you? Are you ready to follow Captain America into the jaws of death?" That got Bucky's attention to jerk away from the glass up to him. His face grew more serious, but he kept the slight smirk in place.

"Hell, no." He paused to take a drink of the amber liquid. "That little guy from Brooklyn who was too stupid to run away from a fight, I'm following him." Steve stared back at him, the urge to hug him growing as he smiled at his friend. Until the mans eyes sparkled with amusement. "But you're keeping the outfit, right?" Steve laughed, and nudged him with a shoulder. His eye caught on of the posters on the wall, on of him posing for the show, actually. He smiled at the familiar colours.

"You know what? It's kinda growing on me."

After that, they sat for a bit, comfortably, just talking about small stuff that the other had missed as the rest of the bar began to loudly sing along with the lively piano player. The Singing stammered with the music, then cut out as the door to the bar swung open.

In walked Tony, with every eyes there staring at him, and Steve couldn't really help the feeling of intense jealously that swept over him, as all of these people watched him. Even jealous, he couldn't blame them. Tony was in his element, the air in the bar actually felt like it had changed as he strode in, glancing around. His hair was damp and swept back, some few strands falling about his face, bringing attention to his sharp eyes.

He'd even managed to get his hands on some better clothing, by the look of it... an Army dress suit, and though the brown of the uniform didn't do anything but manage to look dull in comparison of his eyes, it fit him very well, from his Broad shoulders and lean waist, to the lags that seemed too long given how tall he was.

The way everyone else, even Bucky, was staring at him, wide-eyed, he considered that maybe there wasn't anything wrong with him... hell, if the rest of them were checking him out, he was in the clear, right? Right.

Tony, being Tony,didn't even notice the stares, or the silence, putting on an easy smile and strode over to Steve. "Captain." Steve felt himself smile back.

"Mr. Stark." Bucky shot him a surprised look, then jerked his head back to Tony, eyes sweeping alone the entire length of the man, eyes growing wider the longer he looked. He nodded to the man.

"Sir." Tony smirked at him, caramel eyes shinning with amusement, then turned back to Steve, eyes growing a bit more serious.

"We have some equipment for you to try out. Tomorrow morning good for you, spangles?" great, now he was blushing. At least the music was playing again, and people were at least pretending not to be staring at them.

"Sounds good." Tony's smile turned into a smirk again, briefly, before turning him head to glance at Steve's new team.

"I see your Top Squad is prepping for duty... have half a mind to get a drink, myself." Steve snorted a laugh and Bucky smiled sweetly at the man when he winced at as a single note of the song pitched too high.

"You don't like music?" Tony arched an eyebrow at him.

"I do, actually. Usually faster paced, louder, you know, more modern music, but hell yeah I do." His eyes swept back over to Steve, and he felt his heart in his throat. "In fact, when I get back home, I might just have to go dancing." Bucky smiled.

"Then what are you waiting for?" Tony's laugh was so gentle, he had to convince himself he'd even heard it.

"The right partner." with that, Tony winked gently at him, and turned on his heel and sauntered towards the exit, barely managing to shout, "0800, Cap." over his shoulder before the door shut. Steve just stared at the door for a few seconds before muttering to himself.

"Yes, Sir. I'll be there." After a few more seconds, Bucky tugged on his sleeve and dragged him back to their seats, where he turned and just stared at Steve, a huge, incredibly creepy smile plastered on his face. Could he have noticed? Well, obviously, he had stared at the man like a stunned bull, but did he find it weird? Everyone else had been much the same...

Bucky waited until Steve had a large amount of his beer in his mouth before saying anything, just smiling creepily at him. "Awwww, my little Stevey is smitten!" which promptly caused Steve to choke on the bitter liquid. Bucky calmly patted him back as he attempted to cough all of it out of his lungs, thinking of anything he could say to save his ass now... not that he came up with anything good. His reaction had made it rather clear to Bucky that Steve hadn't taken that as the joke it probably had been.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Buck..." Bucky snorted into his drink, and rolled his eyes, still smiling.

"Oh, please, Steve. You can't hide it from me, you know. You're totally head over-heels for the guy." Steve just stared at him shocked, earning him another laugh. "Oh, man, I haven't seen you this baffled for what to say since _Mr. Stark_ was here."

"Wow, ok, How the hell did you...?"

"Know? Steve, come on. I'm your best friend. We've known each other our entire lives. I figured it out when we were, like 12." Steve's throat tried to choke him again, but this time it didn't have any helpful liquid to help...

"And you...?" Bucky laughed again, and looked at him.

"I don't care. Sure, it was weird to think about, at first, but you're Steve. I'm cool with it. More girls for me. And as far as guys go, well, seems that your Tony isn't a bad catch. Good to have someone that can make _you _smile like he does. It'll be nice to have him around, actually."

"Wait, you... approve of him? I thought you liked dames."

Bucky chuckled. It was a more humored sound than Tony's laugh, oddly. He had a theory that Tony just laughed to fill the silence, though.

"I would be chasing any girl like a puppy, if she had eyes like those. And from the way you stare after him, the rest of him is just as nice as his eyes. I can actually see some of his appeal, really, from an artistic standpoint. Just be careful around him. No one who moves the way he does isn't dangerous to be around. And no one who is dangerous to be around lives as long as he does without being at least twice as dangerous himself."

Steve smiled at his friend. "Oh, come on. You've seen him... you really think he's dangerous? Sharp tongue, maybe and shockingly stronger than he looks, but he is just an engineer, after all."

Bucky was frowning now, deep in thought. " Think about it. Really think. He stood up to Phillips, the _Colonel, _and displaced him by smiling at him. On the way back, you were telling me some crazy story about some glowing thing in his chest and about Howard Stark seeming to be intimidated." Steve opened his mouth quickly to defend Howard, but Bucky just waved him off and continued.

"I know that's not what you said, but from the sound of it, that's what happened. Just trust me here." Steve nodded. "Honestly, he ran after a _murderer, _who had just killed off your doctor buddy, without a weapon. How do you look at that kind of man and not see that he's dangerous? Maybe not to you, he seems to like you, but to an enemy? I sure as hell wouldn't want to be on the opposing side of that fight. Something tells me I wouldn't survive it."

Thinking back on it, he at one point had considered Tony to be terrifying. Had he really spent enough time with him to have forgotten that?

"...You might be right." Bucky's smile returned as he drained the rest of his drink and nodded. "Which is why I'm going to ask him to join the team."

Bucky almost choked on his drink, gasping for breath as he stared him down. "He's dangerous, OK, but join this..? That's just not a good idea, Steve...he's a civilian, he'd be of no use in the field."

Steve turned away from him to hide his own smirk. "We'll see."

* * *

**Well, that's really all I have for this chapter. Again, took a while. Next one hopefully won't, but might. Hope you guys enjoy and all.**


	13. When you can't fight them

** I just had to. Just know that. **

** And damn, chapter 11 and 12 had a rather large gap between them. Sorry about that, again. I'll try not to let it happen often. **

** On the upside, this is probably going to be a rather long chapter. Have fun with it. **

_"Maybe I'm a dreamer... Maybe I'm misunderstood. Maybe you're not seeing the side of me should." _Maybe ~ Sick Puppies

* * *

Tony started the next day still in a good mood from the night before. As silly as he felt about it, he hadn't been able to work off his nervy cheer from his conversation with Steve at the bar. After all, the mans eyes hadn't left him for a second.

It was ridiculous.

He was Tony Stark. He was used to that sort of thing... but having Captain America do so with such open want in his eyes... it made him giddy. No matter how much he tried to force himself not to think about it, his mind rebelled.

Of course, life wasn't perfect, so his mood didn't last the morning out. He finally finished crafting the simple, silvery vibranium shield, and merely smiled at the three other shields, bulky masses of lesser metals, that Howard had made, all sitting proudly on his workbench, waiting for Steve to come access them.

Howard was on the other side of the lab, still trying to get data out of the energy-weapons they'd gathered from Hydra. The night before, the man had managed to blow up part of the lab from a fragment of the ammunition. Hell, Tony had even warned him what not to do. The first thing he does. And Tony was having a hell of a time trying _not_ to be smug about it.

He set the shield down, and sprinted up to Peggy Carter, Phillips right hand man, as she made her way to the door. She was actually very pretty, but for some reason, he just couldn't bring himself to fully see that fact. Might have something to do with the fact that he distantly remembered she was connected to Shield in some way or another, he hadn't really been listening.

Still, they were comfortable companions, it seemed, as she merely took his presence with a nod and a small smile. Nothing gentle about the smile, hell, this woman could give Pepper a run for her money, he would bet. Not quite Natasha level...quite. Then, that could just be the British accent throwing him off.

The two made it about three steps into the outer office of the building before the came to a stunned halt. He felt an angry rage building up in his gut, which had decided it lived in the back of his throat. Steve was kissing a woman, her hair curly and blond. Wait a second, was that...

Yup. Well, shit.

Peggy managed to find her voice before he did. She sure as hell spoke more sharply than he'd heard before, though. He didn't blame her. "Captain." Steve snapped away from her quickly, bringing a hand to his mouth, bright blue eyes wide and shocked as he turned to them.

And stopped cold, seeing Tony just staring at him. He didn't even want to think of what his eyes were giving away. He just needed to get out of there, right fucking _now._ Tony turned and walked back into the lab, trying to be calm, trying to get the buzzing out of his head, only hearing the rest of what Peggy was saying distantly as he got away from them. "we're ready for you, if you're not otherwise occupied."

He could hear Steve shouting something after him, but he ignored it.

What a fucking moron. He'd actually thought that Steve, Captain fucking America, could be interested in _him!?_ Shit, his own parents hadn't even been interested in him. Dammit, he did not need to be thinking about parents right now. Happy thoughts...

Happy thoughts turned out to be his own, studying the lab. Steve and Peggy had entered behind him, Steve's eyes glazed over him, his kicked puppy look in place, begging. Tony made his face blank, and his eyes cold. He relaxed his posture and let himself be hidden away. He had long since gained the skill to look like he didn't care, even as his heart tried to rip itself apart against the cold metal pressed flush against it. He had no right to be hurt. He should be happy for his friend.

He brought himself back to reality enough to hear the end of the conversation Peggy was presently having with the man.

"...Not one thing. You always wanted to be a soldier, and now you are. Just like all the rest." a little harsh, maybe. Steve wasn't like Rhodey, after all, or many others he knew... Still, deep within himself, he agreed, probably only out of anger. Emotions. So unhelpful at times like this...

Steve flushed, finally meeting her eyes. "Well, what about you and Tony? How do I know you two haven't been...Fondue-ing?" Peggy and Tony both stopped and openly stared at him, and he could swear he felt the other mans blush from across the room. Peggy sighed, shook her head, and walked for the door, muttering to herself as she walked away.

"You still don't know a bloody thing about women." Steve stared at her as she walked away for half a second before he spun around, and practically flew over to Tony, eyes wide, mouth open as if to speak... and stopped about a foot away, eyes widening just a bit more. Probably because he'd never actually seen Tony act like this.

Pepper had told him a few years back, when he'd first hired her, that it was as if he had no emotions, as if he were a robot himself, when he had a mask like this on. To this day, if he wanted to un-nerve the woman, all he had to do was drop into this. Rhodey even shifted in discomfort under his uncaring gaze.

Just as Steve seemed to be about to get his tongue back, Howard came up behind him, and draped an arm around his wide shoulders, beginning to steer him toward his workbench.

"Fondue is just cheese and bread, my friend." Tony fought down more anger. Him...and Peggy? Right. That was totally happening. He rolled his eyes. It was clear the agent had a thing for Steve, anyway. That thought actually hurt a bit.

"Really? I didn't think..." Howard removed his arm from the soldiers shoulder, smiling. It didn't make Tony want to punch him, for touching Steve so possessively, any less.

"Nor should you, pal. The moment you think you know what's going on in a woman's head, is the moment your goose is well and truly cooked." Steve blushed, and glanced over at Tony, his eyes still pleading. He just stared blankly back. "Me, I concentrate on my work,"

Tony snorted without humor, but it seemed to be enough to relax Steve a little.

"Which, at the moment, is about making sure you and your men do not get killed." The two paused by the table, and Howard reached down to gather a bit of still material, and run his hand along it.

"Carbon polymer. Should withstand your average German bayonet. Although Hydra is not gonna attack you with a pocket knife." Howard smirked, and let the fabric drop, pulling Steve along behind him to gaze at the shields he'd been making. Tony didn't see his, but he also really didn't care right now, still trying to convince himself to act normally.

Howard rapped twice on Steve's beat-up old shield, a large dent marring the center. "I hear you're rather attached." His eyes darted to Tony, and quickly back down to the layout of metal. Steve caught the movement, and tried to smile at Tony.

"It's handier that you might think." His blue gaze only met a blink stare. His smile faltered a bit.

Howard didn't notice his distraction, and him voice and smile alike grew smug. " I took the liberty of coming up with some options." Tony felt, and quickly buried, another spark of anger. It didn't matter right now. Besides, the man had made most of them. Hell, maybe Steve would actually pick on of those instead. He had turned away from Tony to study them.

Howard quickly jumped to the one Steve was looking at, a huge square thing with metal spike protruding from the front. "This one's fun. She's been fitted with electric relays that allow you to..."

Steve's attention had left him midway through the sentence as he seemed to catch sight of something under the table.

"What about this one..?" Howard looked abashed, and none too pleased at being cut off as Steve pulled out Tony's gleaming shield.

"No, it's just a proto-type..." Steve cut him off again, this time more surprised, hefting it gently in his hands.

"What's it made of!?" If Tony had any less control, he'd have smiled. Howard made no move to answer, and the lump in the back of his throat finally cleared up enough for him to answer.

"Vibranium. It's stronger than steel and a third its weight. Completely vibration absorbent." and difficult as all fuck to work with.

Steve was staring at the shield, eyes wide, smile tugging at his lips. "Why isn't it standard issue?" Tony barked out a laugh that admittedly sounded more like a cough. Whatever, he'd run with it.

"That's the rarest metal on earth."

Howard glanced at him, and nodded. "What you're holding is all we've got..." He paused, then sighed. "Tony insisted on crafting it for you." Steve turned back to Tony quickly, mouth open again, to thank him probably, but he was cut off, this time by Peggy as she walked calmly back into the room, looking for all the world collected. Other than the eyes... people never thought about blocking emotion from their eyes.

"Are you quite finished, Mr Stark? I'm sure the Captain has some unfinished business." Oh yes. Angry still think in her voice. Steve didn't catch that, seeing as he turned to her, hefting the shield proudly, smiling at her over the edge of it. Damn if it didn't fit him perfectly...naturally.

"What do you think?" Peggy stared at him for a heartbeat, before pulling a pistol off of the table next to her and firing off four rounds directly at Steve, who ducked, eyes wide in shock, behind the shield. Everyone else, excluding Peggy and Tony dropped to the ground, arms over their heads. Steve stared down at the four flattened bullets that lay harmless at him feet before looking back up at her, mouth open slightly, as if she were completely insane. She smiled sweetly at him.

"Yes, I think it works." With that, she turned and walked out again. Tony choked down a laugh as Howard stood, and just stood there with Steve for a little, both staring after her, mirrored expressions plastered on their faces. Steve was the first to recover. With a glance at Tony, He pulled out a sheet of folded paper and held it to Howard.

"...I had some idea's about the uniform."

Howard took the paper, and shook his head before walking over to his work station, mumbling "Whatever you want, pal."

It took Steve about five seconds to rush over to Tony, huge hands gently gripping his upper-arms, frantically crushing words together to the point Tony couldn't even begin to make out what the hell he was even talking about, in a low voice, eyes quivering, begging. Tony blinked up at him, and took a breath.

He was a professional, he could handle this... not well, but he could. He could also, luckily, keep the anger out of his eyes and jealousy out of his voice when he cut off Steve's frantic explanation.

"Look, I get that this is the 40's and you're all 'Manly Men' or whatever shit and hey you're mother fucking Captain America," Not the perfect wording, but that had never bothered him in the past, he wasn't about to start worrying about it now. "And I don't exactly blame her for wanting to kiss you, kind of have to be crazy not to," He ignored Steve's shocked look, just proud of himself for managing to keep this entire speech in the same monotone voice, "But next time you want to, you know, have fun with some...woman... lets not do it with my future...well... mom."

It really wasn't even the fact that it had been his mother, really. When he'd seen her kiss Steve, it had taken him a bit to actually realize who it was, but the emotion that had jumped into his gut had been immediate. It was... confusing. He had no right to feel like that. Hell, nothing had ever made him feel like that... He'd have to think that over, later.

* * *

He really hadn't wanted to kiss the woman. She was on him before he could realize what was happening. He probably should have seen it coming, but who was he to know when a dame was flirting with him..? He had been completely shocked, unable to pull away, unable to move, and then...

The second he'd seen Tony's face-or, more accurately, his eyes- it had felt as if his heart broke. Sure, the man's face was blank, and his body was strangely relaxed, but those eyes... They'd been so hurt, so betrayed. Panicked.

Then, so quickly that he had to convince himself he'd seen it at all, the emotions were gone. His friend's eyes were cold and as hard as metal. It was frightening.

His day had started off so well, too. Well, well enough to make him happy. Bucky had a bit of a hangover, something Steve was thrilled not to have to deal with, and he'd dressed quickly to go see Tony. And then he's been kissed. By his (admitted) crush's very young mother. Up until that last part, good morning.

With the beautiful, smoothly perfect shield, which as it turned out, Tony had made him, incredible morning.

Everything in between; the kiss, Peggy's really awkward talk with him, that had taken so much away from everything. Tony being so...blank, so emotionless, that's what really got him, though. It was strange... He had never really thought of Tony as being big on showing emotions, or being so expressive-not his real ones, anyway- but this was different.

When he'd finally gotten to talk, alone, with him, he'd made an idiot of himself. He couldn't even understand most of what was coming out of his own mouth and the rest, well, he hoped to God Tony couldn't. He'd think he was a freak...

His luck, seemingly, was in. A little. Tony didn't react to his half-words. And he did get the man to talk to him, that was good...

"Wait, that was your mother!?" Tony nodded stiffly. Steve's heard pounded painfully. Of course that's what he was upset about... he pushed the disappointment aside, trying not to let it reach his voice. "She's, uh...pretty."

Tony's eyes softened slightly, and he gave Steve a small smile. "Yeah, hands off, stud, or work in the future is going to get a lot more awkward between the two of us." Steve smiled back. He looked down at the ground, trying to wipe the sadness that had worked itself onto his face away.

"Just so you know, she kissed me. That's...never happened to met, before." Tony smiled at him sadly.

"Welcome to your life as a hero. Getting all the girls." The thing was, he didn't want all the girls. He wanted Tony. He could never tell him that...well, again. In words they could both understand. But Tony's teasing did cheer him up a bit. At least he was closer to being him again.

Steve sighed, and glanced to the door. "I have to go meet up with Bucky..." Tony nodded solemnly, then shot a small glare to Howards back.

"Mind my coming with you? Normally I wouldn't mind sitting in a lab for days on end, bu the company here isn't what I'm used to." Steve smiled broadly, heart actually lifting a bit.

"Of course! You haven't really met Bucky, have you?" They made their way to the door, Tony shaking his head. It was odd, Tony being this quiet. Still, it was better than before. "I think you two should get along great." Tony just lifted an eyebrow at him, clearly not believing him.

Going past the blond woman in the small office at the entrance of the building was awkward. She smiled and winked at Steve, then looked startled when Tony sent such an intense, angry glare at her it should burnt through her on the spot. As little as it made sense, he felt a spike of warmth spread through him at that.

Tony blinked a few times as they stepped out into the sun, and squinted, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the daylight, and Steve felt a small pang of guilt settle in his stomach. His poor friend, working all night on his shield and other little projects to help him, with a man he clearly disliked-to put it mildly- and not even getting a thank you... that didn't seem right.

Before he could form a proper thank you for him, Bucky was jogging up to them, looking like he'd just finished his morning PT. Sweating in the mid-morning sun, he panted as he skidded to a halt next to them, and leaned against the wall.

"Ohhhh, so cool. Not fair. You should have to do PT in the mornings, too, you know." Steve snorted at his friend.

"I did. Before you woke up, lazy." Bucky snorted, and waved one hand dismissively. Then he seemed to notice Tony was standing next to Steve, still shading his eyes. His wave turned into one of greeting. "Good morning, Tony!" all smiling slyly at Steve. He almost groaned.

Tony nodded at the man. "Sergeant Barnes. Had fun on your workout, I see." Bucky grinned and rolled his eyes.

"Oh, absolutely. Running, push-ups, getting yelled at by superiors, yelling at subordinates in turn. It was a freaking blast. And what occupied your morning of fun, Mr. Stark?" Steve froze, knowing he looked like a deer in the headlights. Bucky gave him an odd look. Thankfully, Tony didn't say anything about the woman.

"Eh, metal working, yelling at dear old Howard, terrifying assistants. You know. Morning shit." the two smiled at one another with the same slight smirk. Steve jumped in before this conversation could continue... who knows what would be brought up, then.

"Thanks. By the way. For the shield. Really, it's amazing. Perfect, really." He knew he was blushing, and received similar grins from both men. They might get along too well, in the end...

"Not a problem, Cap. I know what you like." Tony winked, then burst out laughing as Steve's blush deepened and Bucky's eyebrows shot up a little. "Besides, with your own skill at fighting right now, you'll need it." Steve snorted.

"Oh, please. Look at me. I know how to hit hard, and I've always been able to take a punch. I bet I could beat just about anyone, right now." He was very clear to put the challenge in his voice. No harm in boasting, a little. It was hardly the first time that him and Tony had had discussions like this, with empty challenges to make it more fun.

Tony snorted back, and Bucky just leaned against the building, amusement building in his dark eyes."Oh, please, Spangles, with how you are right now, it doesn't matter how many muscles you have, if you were to face off with someone who is actually a skilled fighter, you'd get your muscly ass handed to you."

Bucky laughed lightly. "I don't mind sparring with you a bit, Steve. I'm a better at shooting long-range than I am at hand to hand combat, but at least the skill level would be close."

Tony shook his head. "Sorry, man, but he's not really going to learn much that way. Not quickly enough, anyway." He got a thoughtful look on his face, then smiled evilly. This didn't bode well...

Which is how Steve found himself across the ring from Tony.

And at first, Steve tried to go easy on Tony. He really did. And got knocked on his back repeatedly for his trouble. For his size, the man was really strong and a lot quicker than Steve would have thought possible without the Serum.

_'Damn, he hits hard.'_ Was the only thing he could think as his ears rang after being thrown... again...flat on his butt. He could hear Bucky laughing behind him, the sound filling the room as Tony leaned over with a small grin as he helped him up. The thing was, he was positive that he'd easily be able to throw Tony to the other side of the room with one hit... If he could land a hit on him. Which, he quickly found, was next to impossible, with how quickly the lithe man moved. It was like a painful dance.

He'd stopped trying to remember not to hurt Tony after the second time he lost and tried just to get him, using any and all strength he could, and he still couldn't catch him. Tony sure as hell wasn't holding back any strength, but that wasn't a problem for Steve. It stung like hell, sure, but Tony couldn't seriously hurt him, not with his enhanced body. Good thing, too, or else he'd be a heap of bruises and muscle by now.

"You need to let go." Steve just gave him a confused look as he danced away from the kick that swept through where he had just been, barely missing the edge of Tony's heel.

"I'm not holding onto anything." He muttered back in a huff, his fist inches away from Tony's side as he delicately twisted just far enough away to prevent the hit, grabbing onto the wrist, and twisting it behind Steve's back.

"Only the world." Steve found himself back to back with Tony for half a second before he was lifted and tossed over the other man's shoulder, landing hard enough to knock the breath out of his lungs to the sound of Bucky's frantic, hysterical laughing. Tony's chest was heaving, breaths coming in pants. "Damn, man, you're heavy. Shit."

Steve closed his eyes, trying to catch his own breath, muttering up at the man a quick "Sorry." Oh, kill him now. He couldn't believe he was getting beaten so badly... by Tony. Maybe Bucky had been right... Still, his skin tingled pleasantly whenever he touched the other man, so at least him getting sense kicked into him wasn't all bad. What was bad, Bucky probably damn well knew what was going through his head, making him laugh all the harder.

Tony smiled down at him. "Don't be, dammit. Just, need a second to catch my breath, is all. Honestly, though, let go. Stop thinking everything you do through, your body _knows_ what to do, stop thinking and let yourself actually fight."

He gave the smaller man a measuring look as he took the offered hand, and lifted himself off the ground, almost sighing as Tony's hand pulled away the moment he was steady on his feet, Tony falling into what Steve recognized as his fighting stance, balanced on the balls of his feet, knees bent, shoulders drawn back, crouching, head down, watching with un-readable, un-blinking eyes.

"Steve, trust me, here, you're a natural at fighting. You pick things up without being taught, your body knows better than your mind what you need to do. Let the hell go." Steve threw a punch, and Tony darted to the side, sliding up to him, his fist connecting solidly to Steve's short ribs in a flash of pain before dancing away, giving Steve time to recover enough to bring up his guard again. "Let. Go."

And almost without trying, those words echoing through his mind, he felt his body relax, Bucky's laughter melding into the background and he watched Tony circling him, testing. He felt himself punch at the man, ahead of where he was going to be, actually catching the man by surprise, not actually connecting fully, but finally touching his chest.

Tony twisted himself over backwards, away from Steve's moving fist, rolling into a backwards tumble, rolling off his shoulder, onto his knees momentarily before sliding to his feet him one smooth movement. Steve reveled in the grace of it all, in the small mans movements. Bucky had stopped laughing, now watching the fight with real interest.

Tony grinned at him, teeth gleaming, when he lept to the side, and again as Steve's kicks grazed his side. "There you go." Throwing a punch of his own back, which Steve calmly sidestepped. With a jump, Steve's shoulder took Tony in the stomach, sending both of them to the ground, where Steve promptly straddled the smaller man. If he'd have been thinking, he would have blushed, but his legs locked around Tony's chest.

Tony's arms immediately sprang up, covering his face, hands fisted above his head, one knee immediately angled up, the other leg laying flat. Steve ignored his legs for the time, inching his way up Tony, closer, so he might be able to land a punch through his protective arms. The second he lifted a fist, preparing to have it crash down on the other man's arms, Tony jammed his elbows down into the pressure points in his thighs, causing him to jump back.

The same time as his back connected with Tony's knee, he felt Tony's hips twist violently towards his outstretched leg, the knee forcing Steve to follow the momentum and instantly their positions were reversed.

"Good move!" He breathed out as Tony grinned down at him, eyes sparkling with enjoyment.

"Always stick to the basics, Cap. They're there for a reason." Steve snorted out a quick laugh before he attacked, jerking his hips up enough to wrap his legs around Tony's middle... Damn good thing the Serum made him this flexible, too. As quick as Tony had been, he used his legs to force the engineer off of him, sending him sprawling a few feet away, and he stumbled over to him as the man caught his breath, instantly jumping on top of him sideways, when Tony twisted to try to get up.

"Not this time, Tony." one elbow forced Tony's arms above his head, out of the way, as it pressed solidly against his neck, while the other jammed uncomfortably into his hip, one of his knees against the other side gaining full control of Tony's hips, and it was as good as over.

From this angle, he could choke Tony out, or just break his neck and with Steve controlling his hips, his axis of power, Tony couldn't get away. He felt Tony sigh, then a tap on the back of his arm. He slowly lifted himself off of the man, helping him sit up in the process. As if the tap out had released him he finally blushed, feeling ashamed as he saw the mans labored breathing, but he was gleeful at finally having beaten him. Guilt won out.

"Sorry, Tony, you ok? I really didn't mean to hurt you..." Tony just waved him off.

"Calm down. I wanted you to hurt me, that's the damn point of fighting. I wouldn't have fought if I couldn't handle it. Besides, didn't hurt that much." Tony winked broadly at Steve, calming him down instantly. He sighed, and settled down into a sitting position.

"As long as you're ok."

Bucky was hovering over them both within the space of an heartbeat, eyes worried and amused.

"Calm your asses down, I'm fine. Just not sure if I'll be fit to spar with you again for a bit."

Bucky laughed. "I wasn't worried about _you_. More concerned about how badly you threw my Captain around like an over large sack of flour!" Both men rolled over, laughing. Steve just sighed. Why was he always drawn to people with such an odd sense of humor?

He stood, stretching out his sore arms. "You are both crazy. Completely mad." Still, he smiled at them both as he said it, taking any edge off of his words. Bucky smiled back.

Shaking his head, he stood, more sore than he'd expected to be. But Tony seemed to be over what had happened that morning, and more of himself again. It was nice to have that back. Now was as good of a time as any to ask him, he guessed. At least they were alone...ish. Bucky didn't really count, since he was included.

"Hey, Tony?" The older man looked up at him calmly, clearly waiting for him to continue. He cleared his throat. "Uh, well, there's a group I'm putting together...to fight Hydra. And, well, you have said that we are team-mates of a sort, in your time, and everything, and you're my friend, soo..." Wow. Way to articulate, Steve. He had to clear his throat again at Tony's slightly confused stare. "I, uh, want you to join."

Bucky sighed and placed his head in one hand, silently shaking his head. He'd been hoping Steve would change his mind, it seemed. And while Bucky did have a point, they'd both just seen that he was hardly defenseless.

In fact, he'd been considering not asking after all, until that fight. Now, there was no question about it in his mind, though it didn't sound that way out loud. Tony just did that sort of thing to him, especially today.

Tony gave him the weirdest look he'd ever seen on the mans face, head tilted slightly to the side, one eye half closed, as if he were trying to study him from two different distances, Staring up at him, but seeming to meet him eye to eye. That was always disturbing.

"You're really standing here, asking me to join the Howling Commandos?" Steve paused, trying not to give him the same, confused look at the name that appeared on Bucky's face as his head shot up, and quickly nodded before his friend could open his mouth.

"Really? OK... look, Steve. If this were in my own time, maybe, or if I had my armor, I would help you out in a heartbeat, hell, 6 year old me would be passed out from fangirling too hard at the thought of it. But I've been through some shit, and, as much of a bad ass as I usually am, and I am, don't give me that look, Sergeant." Bucky tried to look innocent, but some of the disbelief was still on his face. "I am not some super-soldier, hell, I'm not in the military. I am a genius billionaire engineer and weapons manufacturer. That's my 'super-power.' I think it was actually you who really brought that to my attention, though I'm putting it much more pleasantly.

"Now, I won't sell myself short, not by any means, I am the one person who managed to create and _properly_ function in my suit, the only reason it has a power source is because I'm rather brilliant," Tony closed his eyes, and spread out his hands, " but with current technology, and the amount of time I would have, I wouldn't be able to create a suit much more effective than my Mark 1 and let me tell you, with how it worked, I'm lucky to be alive. With these Hydra weapons, I'd just be a big, metal target. Sorry, Cap."

Bucky must not have understood any more than Steve had, but what he had, he seemed to agree with readily enough. Steve considered for a moment. Tony was just a civilian after all...

"Well, we still need an engineer. Maybe you'll be able to come up with some ways to keep us all alive?" Tony smiled at that, and Bucky's face fell.

"That, I can do. Just don't expect me to go jumping into any big firefights or anything, alright?"

"Agreed...and Tony?" "Hm?" He could almost feel Bucky's eyes staring holes into him, but he couldn't tell if Bucky was upset with him or amused. "I'm sorry about whatever I said... or, rather, will say, to you." Tony made an irritated face at him, but didn't call him out on the apology. "Likewise, Cap." And that was probably the closest thing to an actual apology that he would ever get from the man, but he was happy enough with it.

* * *

**This chapter was actually one of the easiest for me to write, for some reason, despite the fact that I had to force myself to say awake past 0500 two nights in a row, then wake up a couple of hours later. Worth it. I hope you guys enjoy it. **


	14. When your world falls apart

**I was considering breaking this down into two chapters, but I decided "Fuck it, long ass chapter." Also, heads up, PoV goes from Steve to Tony back to Steve, briefly, then ends with a short one of Tony. Tl;dr: It's going to get annoying. The only downside to writing longer chapters is that more happens, making the story move more quickly... normally, that wouldn't be a problem, but it will have to make this one will wrap up quickly. Will be fun to write the sequel, not going through the movie. I can't tell you how many times I've watched Captain America since I started this damn thing, mostly just to get the dialog, then I get caught up in the movie, then it's not like I even have a choice, at that point. Quickly, a thank you to everyone who reads, enjoys, and most especially reviews. I am very happy with every new follow, favorite and review I get. And Zoneperson: You are too kind. And awesome. **

_ "We'll still dance tonight, if the moment's right. I'll sing this song until I force my mind to sleep." _We Still Dance by Tickle Me Pink.

* * *

"Bucky, I thought that you liked Tony." It was later in the day, and Tony had long since sighed as he had decided to get back to the lab to: _'make sure Howard didn't blow more shit up.'_ in his words.

"Oh, I do. Seems like an interesting guy, able to hold up his end of a conversation... your part, too, if you can't manage it."

"Why are you so against him joining us, then? You were the one that decided that he was dangerous and that he would be a good asset, after all."

"Not exactly how I put it, and he might be...But, he's a civilian, Steve. He's going to be a sitting duck out there, someone we'll have to watch over, a hindrance. Sure, he can handle one on one, but in an actual battle? No. As much as I like the guy, we really can't afford someone to constantly be keeping an eye on him. But if we don't, you'd be crushed if- when- he dies."

Steve blushed at that, but tried to ignore the heated feeling on his face, and the pang of hurt his heart gave, just hearing the words 'Tony' and 'Dies' together. " Maybe... but, you guys won't have to. I'll keep an eye on him, but it isn't as if he'll be in any really dangerous fights, remember?"

Bucky sighed. "I hope not. It would be a shame to see him die. It's far too rare to find that kind of wit."

"What, the sarcasm and sometimes oddly accurate insight?"

"You might see it as one thing Steve, but he's really a pretty funny guy. Even when I can't understand a damn word that comes out of his mouth." Steve smiled slightly at that. "See, you do see it, too. You won't admit it, maybe, but you see it. I can really see why you're into him, especially after talking to him."

Steve laughed, still ignoring the persistent blush that stained this face still. "I never said I didn't see it, jerk. Just wondering what you meant." Bucky rolled his eyes, clearly not believing it. "I have spent a lot of time with him, you know. It's easy to pick up on..." The other man snorted a laugh.

"Right, enough time to fall for the guy in the middle of a damn war." Steve glared in a good-natured way at him.

"Well, maybe... but a lot of guys do that, you know. Well, not exactly with other guys, I guess, but dames, all the time." Bucky sighed.

"Well, yeah. There's not much of chance many of the girls are going to run into a battlefield and get themselves killed."

"I trust Tony won't get himself killed." Bucky stood, and sighed again before he made his way out. The last thing he said to him before he ran through the doorway was a very serious

"Who's to say Tony's the girl in this situation?" Steve didn't think the blush would ever go away. He'd have to remember to throw something at him, next time he saw his friend...

Getting the Colonel's permission for Tony to come along was actually a lot easier to acquire than any of them had suspected. It could have been because Howard for some reason quickly vouched for him. Then, it could have been because he didn't really "exist," technically, in this time, as the man quickly pointed out cheerfully. That one made Phillips uncomfortable. Steve personally thought that it had something to do with the fact that Phillips couldn't decide if he hated Tony, and was hoping to get him killed off or if he liked the man who could stand up to him, and trusted him not to die.

At any rate, the only one who seemed to have a problem with him was Peggy. It was odd, seeing how Steve had thought the two were friendly towards one another. He couldn't complain, though. It just meant that the two weren't sleeping together...he hoped. He didn't think he'd be able to be her friend, despite actually liking her. He didn't like to think of himself as a jealous person, but it was hard not to be over the dark man.

The others of the group quickly accepted him as well, aside from Bucky. It turned out he spoke various languages, including French, so Dernier and Jones were constantly talking with him, laughing about something that no one else could understand. Morita and Dugan both were pleased enough with him, once he drank them under the table, and then left the bar, not even wavering. Falsworth was indifferent and polite.

Besides that, the next week was boring for most of them, Steve included, though he was the only one that had to sit in meetings, and come up with strategy and make plans. He'd convinced Tony to come all of four times, during which the man had been an irritating mix between incredibly insightful, and stubbornly tight-mouthed, given some topics.

Steve really couldn't blame him for it, though. He'd explained to him a few weeks ago why he wasn't willing to talk about some things. Would be helpful, but they'd make due without.

Tony finally seemed to be finished working on those glove like things that he'd taken to messing with, though Steve didn't get a chance to see what they did, and had started on boots, wired just as carefully. As curious as he was, whenever he asked the man about them, all he would get was a laugh, a wink and sometimes a secretive smile that put a glint in his caramel eyes, melting them until Steve had forgotten his question altogether. It was silly, how easy it was to get lost in those eyes. And Bucky made fun of him, alone, every time.

By the time for their first real mission as a team, they were all comfortable with one another, and Steve could never remember being happier, as crazy as that was. It was what he'd always wanted, after all. Even Bucky's semi-sour mood at him for bringing Tony along, with the insistence of the rest of the group, to all of their sock, couldn't break his own good mood.

* * *

**T**

Tony was sore. He didn't really try to pay much attention to the fact, but he was. And the inside of a jeep didn't have much else to focus on, so it kept just gnawing at the back of his mind. He really shouldn't have fought Steve. Then he wouldn't have been this sore... oh well. It had been worth it. The wooden bench in the vehicle would have been just as painful anyway, with how many rocks the driver decided he should hit.

Normally, he would be studying the people around him...namely Steve. Not that he was willing to admit that. The man was just devastatingly handsome, that was all. He had also made it perfectly clear he was straight, though, so there was that.

Tony had never been one to give a shit one way or another, male or female, as long as they wanted him. He'd also never been one to get caught up on one specific person, certainly not enough to stop noticing others. Of course, now he'd actually found someone who made him do just that, it was painfully clear that he didn't want Tony. Well, not as anything other than a friend... ok, a friend in this time. As soon as he got back to his own time, they'd probably end up at each others throats again. And he didn't want that.

Unfortunately, the back of the jeep was dark, drenching every one of them in shadow, hiding their features too much for Tony to really be able to study any of them.

So they all sat quietly in the back of the small jeep, waiting with a calm certainty, to be dropped off at the border they intended to sneak across. From there, the Hydra base would be about an hours hike. He really wasn't looking forward to it. He was used to being able to fly in, blow everything up, then fly out. Oh well.

Bucky kept a worried eye on him, seeming to be un-happy about him even being there with the others. Steve sometimes sent him worried looks with those big blue puppy dog eyes of his, visible even in the near dark, before pretending to study a map. The two of them both had that map memorized, but he didn't think that Steve was aware of the fact that he knew that.

Finally, after about two hours, Jeep slid to a stop, and they all poured out, weapons loaded and aimed, scanning the trees before signaling to the others that their area was clear. Tony's weapon remained un-touched at his side. He wasn't, after all, expected to be clearing the area.

There were only so many directions, after all, so he and Morita- the rather heavy drinking Asian man on the team- shrugged on small packs that held extra ammunition. It had been decided that the two of them were the fastest duo, and would probably be able to keep up best, even with the extra weight.

As soon as the all clear was given, and they got into formation, heading across the edge of their territory quickly. He had to force himself to walk evenly on the squishy ground, as he slowly worked feeling back into his still sore legs.

Bucky was talking to Dugan, with Steve shooting the two an amused glance. Tony wished that the Captain America in his time was more relaxed. Abruptly, Tony laughed quietly, earning a questioning look from half the group.

_"And Shepherd we shall be, for thee my Lord, for thee..." H_e cut off at the odd looks the others were giving them, then smacked himself on the head. "Damn, sorry, forgot that you guys couldn't have possibly have seen the Boondock Saints..." He'd have to make Steve watch that movie as soon as they got back. He'd probably enjoy it... or hate it. Or just be confused. Probably that last one, with a good helping of the first. What wasn't to love?

If he'd given that line with the Avengers, he knew damn well that Clint would have taken it up immediately, and Natasha would have given them both a fond glare, while Bruce would have smiled, and Thor would have demanded to know what it meant.

Huh. That was strange. Tony actually missed them. He'd known most of them hardly a week, and he missed them. He shrugged it off, pinning it on the fact he missed his tower_,_ not the team. They were part of it now, after all.

He walked faster, jogging a few steps, so that he stood shoulder to shoulder with Steve. The Captain sent him a startled look, eyes widening with concern that made Tony aware that he was probably showing too much emotion openly. He quickly smoothed out his face, made his eyes go blank, and put on a sure, calm smile. This exact look had been fooling the press since he was 17.

It didn't seem to fool Steve for a second, it seemed, because the man muttered to him in a voice barely hiding the worry that was still plain in his eyes.

"Tony, are you alright?" He looked like he wanted to say more, but couldn't figure out what to say. Thankfully, he'd kept his voice low enough that only Tony heard. He shook his head.

"Na, it's all good, Cap." Steve gave him a stern look that would have been a lot more intimidating if there hadn't still been that look under it. Tony sighed, relenting. "Just...a bit home-sick, I think." Steve's eyes got sorrowful, and he nodded, slowly. Tony smiled at him. "Don't worry, I'll be just fine. Mind if I maybe...walk up here with you for a bit? You're... comforting."

He felt absolutely ridiculous as he searched out the words. There was definitely something wrong with him... he would never admit to being so vulnerable to someone. Then again, it was Steve. He could trust him. Hopefully. Trust was a dangerous thing, he'd learned. Still the brilliant smile Steve gave him, followed by the man nodding with a faint blush on his face made it worth it.

"Of course, Tony. I just wish I could do more to help." Tony just shrugged, and they continued on that way in silence for a while. Sometimes it felt like Steve would move closer to him as they walked along, but that could very well have just been because of the un-even path that they followed. He could swear that at times Steve's big blue gaze were fixed on him, but every time he glanced over at the taller man, h e was staring ahead, intently watching the surrounding area.

After a time, it was clear that they had finally drawn into enemy territory, only half a mile or so from the factory they were aiming at. Steve never told him to drop back, but he did so with barely even a sigh. His side where Steve had been was cold, and the home-sickness washed over him again.

Shaking his head, and muttering angrily at himself, he ignored it, trying to bring the cold calm that came with being Iron Man. It was harder without the suit, but he managed as he drew next to Bucky. The two walked in silence, the Sergeant's weapon drawn, and steady in his fists.

Walking silently, they stalked the wooded area, watching. Sometimes Steve would stop and hold up a fist in front of the group, look around, then wave them forward again moments later. The third time he did this, he threw his shield, knocking a Hydra scout out of a tall tree. If the man hadn't been dead from the power of the metal hitting and slicing into him, the fall made sure he was.

Steve looked at the shield with an appreciative eye as it soared back to him, and he caught it smoothly. Tony allowed himself a small smirk. He was damn proud of how well that shield had turned out. Which was good, because if he hadn't been satisfied, it wasn't as if he just had a mound of vibranium lying around to play with.

Again, they moved forward, and for another small fraction of time, there were no enemies. Steve brought them to a stop again, and looked around cautiously before waving them on again, but something caught Tony's attention. The texture on one of the trees was off..

Tony quickly snatched up the small hand-gun Steve insisted he wear, calmly took aim, and just as quickly shot off two rounds into the shadow as it moved behind Steve. The Captain sent him a surprised look over his shoulder, quickly replaced by a grateful one before moving on as his would-be assailant collapsed, mere feet from him, two smoking holes sitting neatly on top of one another, bleeding down his forehead.

Bucky gave him a wide eyes look from the side as he put the weapon away.

"Damn, man. You're a good shot!"

Tony looked at the kid, one eyebrow raised slightly, a small smile beginning to form.

"That surprises you?"

"Well... you're a civilian..." Tony barked out a single laugh, quietly enough for the sound not to travel any farther than between the two of them.

"No good weapons manufacturer goes very long without learning how to use their wares, and I've been one most of my life." Bucky just shook his head as they continued on, but it seemed that the man was a lot less tense than he had been. He also stopped giving Tony those side-long glances that stated clearly that he didn't belong their.

Rhodey had been much the same way, when they'd first met. Actually, he still was, often as not, no matter he'd saved his friends ass more times than he bothered to count, the man still treated him like he didn't know what he was doing in a fight. Well, after Afghanistan, Tony really couldn't blame him. Much.

They came across two other scouts as they wove their way through the woodlands, one was quickly spotted and taken down by Bucky before any of the others could get their weapons up. The other popped up nearly underneath Dugan's nose, his rifle whirring to life as the large man grabbed his throat with on hand, snapped it quickly, then tossed him away, all without so much as batting an eye. The weapon was still growing silent as they moved on.

Steve paused one last time before he waved them up next to him, to the edge of a clearing that held a massive factory. It worked silently, no speaking among the men who stood outside of it, guarding the place past the patrols exchanging a few brief words of assurance that all was well. Tony felt his face twist up into a wolfish smile as he counted the men. Only 15, but all had glowing blue weapons propped up in their hands. Hardly a fair fight, especially when the others couldn't even see them. He tugged the small pistol into his hands, and flicked off the safety.

Glancing at Steve, he could see the conflict on his face. He nudged the man, and gave him a questioning look. Steve winced slightly and looked pointedly at the handgun. Then he nodded. Bucky and Tony aimed and fired as one, each dropping a target within seconds of one another. Tony dropped another three, and Bucky two with his larger rifle before the Hydra patrols realized that they were even being attacked.

The rest of the team sat silently and watched calmly as the two made quick work of those remaining, Steve only tossing his shield once the single remaining Hydra agent spotted them and sprinted towards them, yelling insanely as his weapon began to glow. Tony was reloading a clip, and he was moving too irregular for Bucky to get a good lock on him.

Steve's shield took the man in the wrist, sending the weapon flying as it shot off a pulse of energy, the sudden movement forcing the blast to miss them by several feet. The man managed to howl in pain half a second before a round from Bucky's rifle blew through his head, a smaller round hitting a fraction of a second after in his throat from Tony's, effectively cutting off his cries.

They waited five full minutes, just watching the building before everyone except Bucky rushed forward towards the building. Bucky's rifle would have been just about useless inside, but was pretty perfect to be covering them from the safety of the cleared area.

Tony and Mortia Stationed themselves just outside of the building, prowling around to do much the same as Bucky as the other five went in to clear the building. It didn't take them long before explosions could be heard from inside, and a flood of confused and frightened Hydra lackey's all but flew out of the door.

The three men emptied their weapons into them in surprise. It was a confusing affair, for Tony. He couldn't decide if he were extremely happy that he wasn't in his Iron Man armor, enabling him to jump and roll quickly out of the way of countless deadly blasts, or pissed that he didn't have it. All the these assholes would probably be dead already, after all, had he been suited up.

By the time the building began to collapse in on itself and it was time to get the fuck away, the ground had ground rather muddy, soaked through in some places, with blood.

Steve managed to get out of the building just on time to see Tony kick the last of the men attacking him square in the face, which made him feel like an extreme bad ass. He must have looked like one, too, from the way Steve was staring at him, blue eyes wide.

Tony laughed, then nodded over to where the rest of the group were forming up, waiting. Steve nodded and took the lead, and Tony was too happy to follow, for once. Damn, he was going to be so fucking sore on the ride back to base...

* * *

**S**

"...You know, Steve, I really should have known that you couldn't fall for just some ordinary civilian. You just had to go for the one that happened to be a better fighter and a better shot than most people in the military, didn't you?" Steve shot Bucky an amused glance.

"And you were worried about him." Bucky rolled his eyes.

"Well, yeah, didn't realize that people in the future are apparently capable fighters." He looked thoughtful. "Should have seen it coming, I suppose. It is the future, after all." He didn't sound at all as if he believed it, still.

Steve rolled his eyes. "And, you know, he happens to be on a team of super-heroes. That should have been a big clue." Bucky threw one of his rolled up shirts at him.

"Enough of that shit, man. Really. Super-heroes." he drifted off. "Must be pretty awesome, huh.?" his voice was low, almost too low for Steve to hear him.

Steve frowned. "I don't know about awesome... I think it must mean things are pretty messed up, if they actually need them." He shook his head. "After all, I wouldn't be Captain America if we weren't in a bad situation as it is." Bucky sighed, but nodded. Then he brightened again, a curious look crossing his face.

"Hey, Tony's one of these Heroes, right?" Steve nodded. "I wonder what his super power is, then." Steve snorted out a laugh.

"He's crazy smart, and knows how to build things people have a hard time even dreaming about, that's his power. You heard him say that himself, or something like it." Steve glanced off for a second before turning back to his friend, and said more seriously. "He told me that he's called Iron Man. Other than that, I'm really not sure."

Bucky looked thoughtful. Then he shook his head, and went back to the small rucksack to dig out a clean shirt. The last mission they'd been one had been harder than most of them, Falsworth had come away slightly singed. Not that the British man seemed to mind.

Steve couldn't help but think that maybe it would have gone more smoothly if the subject of their conversation hadn't had to say back at base to work on something for their next mission. Despite the fact that he'd made the choice to get Tony to join, it still had surprised him that the man was as good a fighter as he was. After that first fight, Bucky had completely stopped worrying about him at all, for which Steve was grateful.

Steve still worried about him, though not very much when it came to the fighting. The man had proven he was very capable on that front, even with that bullet wound in his side, and the half healed burn encircling his wrist.

No, he'd been worried about how homesick the man was getting. He'd only mentioned it the once, and he'd never acted that way since, to Steve's disappointment, but it got Steve to thinking... He was completely alone here, really. No one knew him, even knew he existed, because, technically, he didn't exist, yet. He didn't even have the technology he was used to.

That walk had made Steve aware of just how alone the man must be feeling. And it hurt, not being able to do anything, mostly because Tony didn't seem to need him to. He was holding it together far too well, in Steve's opinion.

It was helpful, sure, because if the man had broken down, or been unable to adapt as he had, Steve's team wouldn't have had such an easy time, Steve wouldn't have had his gear, especially his shield, and they'd probably actually be dead by now. But it still made Steve worry about him.

Shaking his head, he stood, stretching. Tomorrow would be an early day, one he was quite looking forward to. They'd received a transmission that Schmidt's right hand man, Dr. Zola, would be on a train the next day, a few days ago. Which was why Tony had been locked up in the lab since. If they could get the man, it would be a huge step in their favor to ending Hydra. Well, as long as he didn't kill himself before they could question him.

Still, even if he did, Zola was still a major player in the organization.

It was getting late, and it was quickly becoming clear that Tony wouldn't be out of the lab tonight. That worried him, too. At least Howard had a cot down there to sleep on, if he worked so late that he was too tired to get to his own bed, and he slept every night, as far as Steve knew. It was just who Tony was, he knew, but it still worried him almost as much as him rarely eating. If it hadn't been the middle of a war-zone, Steve would have tried to force him to eat something more often, but he didn't get a chance often.

He stood next to the door of the massive tent for a few seconds, before rushing out, and made his way to the lab as quickly as he could. The temperature wasn't much different outside of the tent than in, but it was enough, combines with the steady, whining breeze to chill him deep in his skin within seconds.

Very few people were out this time of the day, many preferring the small protection a wall of canvas gave them against the cold than to be out in the center of it, which enable him to get there quickly. He rushed inside of the door, and allowed himself a single shiver before walking just as quickly to the door that led over to the lab the two Stark's had taken to working in, completely ignoring the blonde woman that tried to get his attention.

It wasn't that he wanted to be rude, but he just couldn't help it. She'd almost ruined his and Tony's friendship, to be sure, never mind if she was Tony's mother.

As soon as he walked through the door, Tony looked up, and smiled lightly at him before tossing whatever he'd been working on down, walking gracefully, if lethargicly toward him. Steve felt a stab of guild prick him again. They were working the man much too hard, and most people didn't even care, or notice. As much as he disliked the fact that the man worked as long as he did, he expected it of him.

"Well, good evening, Cap." Tony hid a yawn before continuing. " Must be here for your new toys, hm?"

Tony was hiding something again. The empty light in the back of his eyes gave away that much, as well as the nearly flat tone that was worked carefully into his voice... under that, he almost sounded sad.

Steve, having learned not to try to pry when he was hiding thing, just nodded, looking worriedly down at the man. Light, but he looked so tired. The the man was smiling, motioning for him to follow over to a long table that held three pairs of boots... One pair, his own. He looked at the man questioningly.

Tony quickly explained their presence, and all sorts of things that Steve's mind just glazed over. He knew damn well he wouldn't understand most of what Tony was saying, and it was much more fun to watch the man's mouth. The, when Tony stopped talking, he tried to remember anything about what he;d said. Maybe he was too tired for his own good, as well. Usually he didn't just zone out like that...

"OK, so the magnetic field implanted in our boots will manage to get a grip on the train, and make sure we won't fall or slide..."

"That is simplified version, yes."

"If they're that powerful, how will we be able to walk?"

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers, eyes shut tight, and sighed. "Well, it all has to do with the pressure surrounding the convection currents in the... Steve, do you really want me to give you an explanation that you won't understand?"

Steve paused for a moment, considering. "...no."

Tony clapped his hands together, smiling, but pushing the boots to him. They were labeled. Bucky's and Dugan's. Perfect. "OK, then just trust that they'll work. You'll be able to walk just fine. Just make sure that when you set your feet down, you do so on the metal, otherwise, at that speed, there's no way you'll be staying on that things back."

Steve gave him an unamused look. "It's a train, Tony. It doesn't have a back." Tony just chuckled, and impatiently waved one hand. Howard looked almost as amused by the exchange as Tony did from where he stood across the room.

He quickly thanked the men, making a gentle comment to Tony that he should really get some sleep-which the man of course ignored- before rushing back to the huge tent that served as the barracks. Bucky was back, sitting on his bead as he prepared himself for sleep.

Steve handed him the boots, and briefly explained their purpose.

Bucky looked at the boots with apprehension for a moment before tossing them down with shake of his head, then collapsed back onto his bed. He murmured a goodnight to Steve, and was asleep in the next heartbeat. Steve shook his head, frowning. They were all being pushed hard, it seemed. But he couldn't do anything about that. They needed to be pushed. He wished that there was another option, but war wasn't exactly about having options. It was actually the lack of options mixed with the need to act.

And they had both, so they would be pushed as hard as necessary. They all knew it, too, and took every mission without complaint. Still, he shook his head and stared up at the waves of fabric rippling above his head a good two hours before he finally fell asleep.

* * *

**T**

It was morning before he knew it, and damn if he wasn't tired. He wouldn't have been able to sleep if he'd tried, the night before, however. Today was not a good day, if he remembered correctly. And he knew that he did. He wished that he could have rationalized warning them, do anything to prevent it, but if he did, it was likely that it wouldn't be Bucky who would die.

Or, rather, he wouldn't be the only one not coming back that night, if Tony did.

Steve was tough, he'd be able to handle it. He always did. Just look at him with Coulson.

Tony knew damn well that Steve had sensed something was up with him, the night before. He had had that look in his eye, but he hadn't asked, much to his relief. He was a good liar, when he needed to be, but lying to Steve? He just didn't have it in him.

He wondered if by the end of the day Steve would hate him. He was a smart guy, he knew perfectly well that Tony would have been able to change this, if he'd told. As sick as it made him, he would rather see Bucky dead than Steve, and not only because of how he felt towards the man.

If Steve died, Hydra would win. He liked the future fine the way it was. Even if they managed to stop Hydra without Steve, they would never be able to stop the Chitauri without him, which would mean the actual end of the world. So, as much as he liked the man, he couldn't bring himself to give them a heads up. Not many people would do something, if they knew the consequences before-hand. He might not understand people, but he knew that much.

So, he waved goodby to the Howling Commandos as they were leaving, trying to look cheerful, Laughing along with them as they tried to convince him to come with, shaking his head with a huff.

"And, what? Sit in the freezing ass cold, while those three go play with speeding hunks of metal? That's a normal day for me. I think you can manage alone." He tried to avoid looking at Bucky and Steve both. The former didn't know him well enough to notice, but Steve sure as hell did, though he restrained himself only to giving the smaller man questioning looks with sad, big blue eyes.

He smiled at him and shook his head and Steve nodded sadly.

Before they all jumped onto the small aircraft that would put them in position, Bucky came up before Tony and slapped him lightly on the back with a smile.

"You sure these things will work?" He gestured at the boots.

Tony managed a halfhearted growl, and swiped playfully at the man as he danced out of his real with a laugh.

"Ok, Ok, they work. Got it." He forced another smile onto his face, and Bucky's slipped slightly, but he was herded onto the waiting transport before he could say anything. One last sorrowful smile up to Steve, and they were gone.

Steve sat in the empty, completely destroyed bar, the very place that had not very long ago held all of his team. The same place where he'd convinced Bucky to join.. He sat, draining drink after drink, oblivious of everything around him. Still, Tony was surprised when he managed to sneak up on the man. Not that he could blame him. If he'd lost Rhodey, he'd have been much more of a mess.

Tony shuffled forward uneasily, and hesitated only a moment before putting a hand on one to the strong shoulders, and squeezed lightly.

The Captain glanced back, at him, then lowered his head, trying to hide the tears that he refused to let fall.

"Dr. Erskine said that the serum wouldn't just affect my muscles, it would affect my cells. It would create a protective system of regeneration and healing. Which means um...I can't get drunk."

"Challenge accepted." He said it jokingly, as awkward as he always was, with another squeeze, and poured Steve another drink. The man seemed so lost... that wasn't right. If his leader, his Captain was lost, that left too many people hanging in the wind.

Forcing his voice into a calm, gentle and hopefully soothing murmur, "You won't be alone, you know. Never." Steve glanced over at him, his eyes soft, but confused.

"I wasn't worried about being alone..." He leaned his head gently on Tony's arm for a moment before downing another useless drink.

"Right. You know I'm not good at reading people. Why don't you tell me about it. Maybe I'll manage to string some bullshit together so I can see a smile." Even through his sorrow, Tony saw a small smile grace Steve's face before it melted away again and he sighed.

"He was my best friend. He was always there for me, and I failed him." Tony's eyes widened at that. Who was it that just a few short weeks ago had simply shrugged off Coulson's death, and let it measure up to him making his own choice, and being a soldier?

"It wasn't your fault.."He tried to start, but shockingly, Steve cut him off.

"Did you read the report?" Tony nodded stiffly, but didn't say a word. It wasn't often that he let people just talk over him, but this time, it was worth making an exception. "Then you know that that's not true." The blonds head lowered as he poured that rest of the bottle into the small glass.

Tony's eyebrows drew together, trying to think of something, anything, to say. Then, as if by some miracle, the memory of Steve's own voice and Rhodey seemed to mesh in his head. "Did you respect him?" Steve nodded, confused eyes shooting back to lock with Tony's, seeming so very lost. "And you believed in him." Another nod. "Then stop blaming yourself. Allow him the dignity of his choice. He damn well must have thought you were worth it. You both did everything you could. He knew what he was doing, and why. Allow his memory that."

He wasn't sure what he'd really said to cause it, but suddenly Steve was up, hugging him desperately, shivering. And what did his stupid body do? It tensed up of course, because he wasn't used to being hugged.

Forcing himself to relax before Steve could notice, he wrapped his arms around the man, and led his backwards through the rubble until his back hit the wall, where he side down, dragging a still clinging Steve with him.

He didn't even mind when the man started to cry on him, and he wasn't about to ever say anything about it to anyone. At least he was there for him.

_ "And I always will be."_ He thought to himself when Steve finally fell asleep, curled up next to him. He was asleep, too, in a matter of minutes.

* * *

**Ok, that chapter went more quickly than I suspected it would, especially since every time I started to write, I really wasn't feeling it. And every time but this last one, it was around 5 when I got to a point where I was ok with stopping for the night, and try to get a few hours of sleep.**

** So, I really hope you guys enjoy. Hope it doesn't seem rushed, it was getting way long. **


	15. When the situation calls for it

**Review answering time! Usually, I don't, usually not much to answer, but there are a few I would like to respond to:**

** Melissen: Thank you for the lovely review, and the input. I really don't enjoy putting Peggy's words int Tony's mouth, truthfully, but because of a later element in the story, I have to try to keep the dialog as close to the movie as I can. I'll try not to do so so much in the future, or at least work it a little more. **

** Balshumet: Thank you, both for the review and pointing things out. As is probably obvious by this point, I'm not a history buff, ha. I'm mostly just going by what is in the comics and mostly movie, since it's easier to listen to while I write than read. So, really, sorry if some things are off. I appreciate the time you took to review, and I look forward to any you may give in the future.**

** ~Mah'al.**

** A lot of jumping back and forth PoV. Sorry bout that. Enjoy. **

_"If I could turn back time, I'd find a way to remind you that somehow you could try to give in and fight the good fight." Madeline_ – Tickle Me Pink

* * *

**T**

Tony woke with a start, his body stiff and cold, with something big and warm pressed to his side. Before he had a chance to open his eyes, he remembered the previous day. Steve, then. Good. At least the man hadn't run off to be alone again. He had promised the man that he would be there for him, and he sure as hell intended on keeping that promise when he was able to.

It didn't take him long to realize the other man was awake. His breathing was too light, his heartbeat that pounded against Tony's side too fast. He suppressed a groan, and opened his eyes, immediately glancing over to meet deep blue eyes. Still red-rimmed from the night before, the blue seemed more pronounced. If it weren't because he was so sad, it would be stunning.

Steve jumped when he met his gaze, blushed as he glanced away. Tony's eyes slid half-closed, and he fought down a smirk.

"Were you watching me?" Steve didn't answer or even look up, but the red spread even deeper in his pale skin. "That's some creepy shit right there, Cap. If it were anyone else, I would be worried." Steve sighed, mumbling an apology. He ignored it, of course. "So. Any reason as to why you were watching me?" He paused for a second. "Feeling any better?"

Steve nodded lightly. "Yeah, I...Yeah. He was like my brother, but at least he's in a better place, now. No war, there, you know?" Tony forced his mouth to remain closed. No need to upset the man with his own beliefs. Steve cleared his throat, and surprisingly, his blush deepened even further. If it kept this up, the man wouldn't only resemble a tomato, he'd turn into one...

"Your...uh, your heart beat was really slow. And I could barely feel it. I... I was worried. I don't want to lose you, too." He paused. "You are ok, right?"

Tony sighed, and leaned his head again Steve's shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm good. Beats slow because there's metal pressed against it. No worries, it's normal." Steve glanced to the ground.

"...Does it hurt?" Tony squeezed his eyes shut.

"Every damn day." Steve was silent for a little, and Tony just allowed himself to drift around in his own head, soaking up Steve's warmth.

"Hey, Tony?" He grunted in response. "Do you think that Bucky is in a better place." He groaned. Dammit, just what he didn't care to talk about. He considered lying to the man, if only to make him feel better...but. But that was just so against everything that he was.

"Steve, I...believe he's out of pain, hows that?" Steve jumped in surprise.

"...You don't believe in God, or Heaven?" He shook his head, eyes shut tighter, waiting for some wild reaction.

"Oh. Well, that's strange." Was all he got, in a completely accepting voice. Well. That went better than he expected.

He groaned again. "We should probably get up."

"Probably." Neither moved an inch, both too comfortable. Not like anyone would expect anything of Steve today, anyway. And if they expected anything from Tony, he'd be too happy to tell them to fuck off.

**S**

* * *

Tony's head rested on his shoulder, eyes closed and his breathing was deep. Not the full deep of sleep, but of weariness.

Steve was surprised that the man hadn't freaked out and run off, yet. He really wasn't the "Confront emotions" type. Steve was glad he hadn't, though. As much as he really had accepted Bucky's death, he really needed someone solid to be around right now, and Tony was just about as solid a person as he'd ever met.

If a river tried to sweep the man away, a glare would just force it to part around him, he was sure.

Maybe the man was just too tired to leave. He had been working really hard. And of course he'd known about Bucky dying for days. Steve was sure about that, but strangely, he wasn't even a little angry with him. Not even disappointed. The way Tony saw it, it simply hadn't been his place, and Steve knew that Bucky would have agreed. He hurt, but war was war.

He glanced at the ruffled hair of the man as he rested on his shoulder, and bit his lip. Tony tensed, and looked up at him with sleep glazed eyes. Steve opened his mouth to say something, but then jerked his head away, snapping his mouth closed.

_'No.'_ He told himself fiercely. _'You do not get to have some sort of crazy breakdown. Not again.' _Tony's eyes still gazed at him. He felt his mouth opening again, and forced it closed. The man next to him sighed.

"Steve, you obviously need to say whatever it is that you have on your mind. Keeping it locked in there right now isn't going to help. Go ahead." Steve hesitated, still. He could see Tony restrain from rolling his eyes. "Don't worry. I'm not going to judge you, ok? Won't get mad, won't tell anyone. I'm your diary, only no one will be able to just break into your room to read me. Alright." Steve lowered his head and nodded, wishing he wasn't so miserable right then so he could laugh.

"People just pay attention to me now because of what the serum did to me. Bucky was always there for me. I'm going to miss that. If I were still just some skinny little kid, someone like you would never watch me like you do, you know."

Steve stared down at the floor, trying not to look at Tony. He couldn't believe he had just said that. Why the hell had he actually let Tony persuade him into saying it? Maybe Bucky's death had made him even more emotional than he'd thought. But all he could do now that it was out was hope that Tony ignored it.

In the back of his mind, he knew that he didn't want Tony to just gloss over this, but it would certainly make things easier than if he'd managed to force the man away with such idiotic words.

"Steve, look at me." Tony didn't miss a beat. He put a hand under Steve's chin, and with strength that always shocked him, forced the blonde to meet his eyes. "Steve. I don't watch you for that body. The body doesn't detract from the watching, but that's not the reason why I do it.

"I watch you because of who you are. I've lived my entire life with my father hating me, mocking me, for not being more like you. My childhood consisted of my father obsessing over you, and not seeing anything in me, because of you. I gave up trying to be what he wanted, because I could never be like you. But I've never been able to hate you, or dislike you. And trust me, I tried, for a while. But you're a hero, my hero. Always have been, and it's impossible to call someone a hero and not like them.

"I watch you because you have a different fire in you than what I've ever had. You were born with the heart of a strong man, a man who you could grow into. Not many people have that. You were born with a fire that made you into the type of person I would watch. The people who only see you for what the serum did to you are too blinded by what they force themselves to see, never seeing that you didn't change. Not in your heart.

"The "changes" that they see now, those are who you already were. That doesn't happen, people aren't like you. Not in the 21st century, at least. That alone is enough reason to watch you. I was made a 'hero' by unfortunate circumstance. You were born a hero. Science simply made it possible for you." That gaze was so intense, so calm, that Steve never even considered that Tony would lie to him.

His own eyes started to tear up slightly. Tony was right: Emotions sucked sometimes. But this time he didn't mind so much.

He didn't think, he leaned forward, allowing his body to do what it screamed to. Tony didn't pull away, only watching with those calm eyes that were practically glowing with something that made Steve's blood hot.

He was literally a breath away from taking Tony's lips with his own when someone behind him cleared their throat.

Steve let off a string of curses that surprised him in his mind, but sighed, and pulled away from the man, to look at Agent Cater, who stood blushing at what had once been the door to the bar. Tony's eyes watched him sadly as he pulled away. Steve wanted to yell, and hit something in frustration. He'd almost kissed him... And he would have let him.

Why the hell would Peggy choose now to come bursting in!?

Giving Tony an apologetic look, he stood, dragging the half asleep man up with him. Tony just smiled softly at him, eyes distant. He tried to push the thought of maybe he had misinterpreted some kind of sign from Tony, and the man might be angry with him as he turned to Agent Carter. He raised an eyebrow in demand. He tried to keep the slight anger out of his eyes, but it didn't seem to work, as the woman's eyes grew wide. Still, she didn't lose one ounce of her composure as she spoke.

"We managed to drag some information out of Zola. Your needed in the planning room... both of you are welcome." Her eyes narrowed at the slim man behind him, but her voice remained unchanged. "You are quite clever at this, when you choose to help." She turned and began as stately walk out of the bar. Steve sighed again, and motioned Tony to follow him.

The scientist did so without a word. He knew his eyes were filled with an unspoken question, and he didn't bother to even try to hide it. It felt like his heart relaxed when Tony smiled up, eyes more lively this time, and squeezed his arm before urging him on.

Peggy remained far enough ahead of them the Steve felt comfortable enough to fall in step beside Tony, deciding to put what had almost happened at the bar away for when they were more alone, instead saying, "You seem to have been in a better mood, lately. Haven't snapped at anyone who didn't deserve it since Brooklyn." Tony let out what could have been a laugh.

"Too miserable to be angry, lately." Steve gave him a concerned look. "Plus, you seem to actually be managing to keep my temper in check. Odd, usually you are so good at setting me off." The man looked over at him and winked, tempting a shy smile from Steve, even if inside he was in turmoil over the whole 'miserable' thing.

He shook his head, and let silence fall. If Tony needed him for anything, the man knew he would be there for him. They had more important things to worry about, and Tony was good at keeping his emotions out of his way when there was work to be done. It was who he was, and Steve couldn't have been more happy for it. With Tony's help, maybe he'd actually manage to avenge Bucky's death.

* * *

** T**

Tony's mind had still been foggy, and he could only stare as Steve leaned in to kiss him. His breath ghosted over the other mans lips, but he restrained himself from pushing forward for some reason. He blamed his foggy mind.

The next second, someone had made a noise behind them, and Steve pulled away from him swiftly, and his mind went blank. Well, that was a first.

None the less, he groaned sadly as Steve stood, pulling him up with him, blue eyes apologetic on Tony's. His face forced itself into a slight smile, which was enough to satisfy the Captain. When he finally got his mind functioning again, the first thought that flitted its way across his head was a simple, _'well, shit.'_ Shortly followed by, _'Yeah, don't kiss him. Don't trust your instincts, that always works to your benefit. WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING!?' _

He blocked out what the sharply dressed Agent Carter was saying to Steve and then blindly followed Steve when he motioned at him to follow, a look of simultaneous fear and hope driving into the smaller man. This time, he had enough of his mind with him to smile at Steve and squeeze his arm before following.

Steve strode along beside him comfortably, and said something to him. He felt himself respond, but was too deep in the depths of his mind to really know what they were talking about. Said mind just so happened to be running itself in circles around one thought.

Shit. Fucking shit. He was in love with Steve fucking Rogers. If there was one damn thing Tony Stark had didn't do, it was love someone. Well, no when he had a choice in the matter. As much as he hated Howard, no matter how much he detested being around his mother, he loved them, in their way. He loved Obi, sick and sadistic as it was, even after he'd tried to kill him. It was impossible for him not to: they were a consistent in his life.

He loved Rhodey like a brother, though he was sure the feeling was not mutual, but again, that was probably because every time he was in a captive situation, it was his friend who saved him. Pepper...of course he loved her, in a way. He loved that she wouldn't take any of his shit, and that she had long since given up on trying to force him to do things that she knew he really didn't want to do. This was different.

All of those people had been in his life for years. He would say for as long as he could remember, but since he remembered staring up at the ceiling in his crib before he could even roll over or comprehend emotion, that was hardly the truth.

But he had known Steve personally for a few months only, and still, this was the most intensely he could remember ever feeling towards someone. It wasn't just that he wanted to bend the man over a bench and fuck him.

He wanted to bend him over and fuck him until neither one of them could catch their breath, and be so out of energy that all that they could do would be to lay there, their burning lungs drowning together, simply being happy with laying in one anothers company. He wanted to wake up to him blond hair him his face, and go to sleep wrapped tightly in his arms, protected. He wanted a reason not to be in his lab, miserable all of the time, working himself to death, because no one would really care if he did die, knowing that at least he'd go out of the world giving it something useful.

He wanted to believe that someone would want be with him, forever, and never let him go purely because they loved him back. Shit.

The camp had been moved here after the town had been bombed and destroyed. Tony had no idea what the hell kind of logic that was, but thus far, it hadn't gotten them killed, so he tried to to dwell on it too much. While it on one hand meant that they didn't have far to walk before they strode into one of the only brick buildings still standing in the center of the camp, on the other it meant that there wasn't much time to think before they got there, making him do something he never had enjoyed: Think it through too quickly.

If you did so, you always ran the risk of overlooking something and coming to the wrong conclusion, which usually ended in someone getting hurt. Usually, physically, seeing as he did fight shit like aliens and dangerous knock-off suits of power armour. He was good at it, sure, but he'd rather be able to calmly work things out. No matter. He was in love with Captain America. He could deal with that. From the look of it, it wasn't as one sided an attraction as he'd initially thought it to be. That was all there was to it, all there was needed to be known at this point in time. When there was time, they would work it out.

_'If there is time'_ his mind reminded him softly. Ah, yes. His throat tightened. He knew that date. He knew the coming fight. His mind never forgot things like this, as much as he hoped that it had, that he was somehow wrong and that it would be months from now, that he'd get to hold onto a Steve that didn't hate him just a little bit longer. But there weren't months, there were hours, now. It killed him inside a bit to know, but that was something else he couldn't help. Best not to dwell on it.

Peggy stood in the corner of the cramped room as Steve went over to hover over the table that took up most of the space, studying. Tony leaned next to her, not looking at Steve.

"You seem to be taking this rather calmly."

Peggy sighed as she watched Steve's form across the room, much to the annoyance of Tony, though he didn't voice it. Looking back to Tony she shook her head. There was no need for her to ask what he was taking about, and they both damn well knew that.

"We're a little more open about that sort of thing in England, truthfully. And you are good for one another, I suppose. I don't have to like it, so I won't. Just...be careful with him. As tough as he is, he's a lot more gentle than I think many realize. And no matter what, he'll follow where you go."

Tony allowed his eyes to drift over the man, and smiled slightly. "He probably will. As I'll follow where ever he goes, I suppose. Really hope that doesn't lead us in too many circles." She threw the cloth cap she was holding at him, only to get a laugh in response.

He shook his head, and sighed as he dodged the piece of material, pushing himself off of the wall, and went to lean over the map spread over the table.

Damn, he wished he had coffee...

* * *

**S**

It was extremely distracting when Tony stood in the corner, looking in his direction while whispering to Peggy, wondering what was going through the genius' mind, but when the man actually strode away from her with a self-satisfied glint in his eyes, with Peggy blushing and trying to hold back a laugh to lean over the table, it got worse for him.

It was as if Tony were refusing to look at him as he pointed at the map and muttered things to them. All Steve could think, despite the calm that he had acquired on the walk over that's to Tony, was that maybe he'd gone too far, that now the other man was ashamed to be near him. He couldn't really concentrate on what was being said.. He knew that he should be, but Tony filled his mind.

Then, as if sensing his sorrow, Tony looked up, and caught Steve's eyes with his own. His face looked so... sad. Then, he smiled at him, not a large smile, simply a small quirk of the edges of his lips, but the warmth in it radiated up, engulfing and eclipsing all of the sadness lurking in his caramel eyes.

His eyes remained locked with Steve's until he managed to pull himself out of the stunned joy that had filled him enough to smile back at the dark man, just as warmly, he hoped. Only then did Tony's face go back to being sorrowful as his gaze drifted back to the map.

The warmth that had managed to fill Steve never left, though. '_as long as he doesn't hate me, I __can manage through all of this.'_ was his only thought before he turned his attention and his own eyes back to the map as well.

The rest of his team had shuffled in while he had been drifting away, and stared at him with eyes full of mourning and fury. Thankfully, the anger didn't seem to be directed at him in any way, but at Hydra. They had not liked getting one of their own stolen away from them any more than Steve had, and had plans on making the enemy pay dearly for Bucky's life.

"Johann Schmidt," Colonel Phillips began as he made his way to the head of the table, "Belongs in a bug-house. He thinks he's a God, and is willing to blow up half the world to prove it, starting with the USA." Tony snorted, and muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Steve's enhanced hearing to pick it up.

"Oh, please. If the man ever met a real God, he'd shit himself." Steve rolled his eyes, and forced a smirk away. Coming from a guy who didn't believe in God, he thought with affection. It was odd, but seemed to be an accepted thing in his time, and Steve was hardly one to force his beliefs onto others.

Howard walked up to the table with a glance at Tony from the corner of his eye. " Schmidt is working with powers beyond our capabilities." He waited for Tony to interrupt, but the other Stark remained silent, "If he makes it across the Atlantic, he will be able to wipe out the Eastern Seaboard in an hour."

Jones shook his head sadly, his voice blank. "How much time we got?" Phillips snorted, eyes trained on the map.

"According to my new best friend, under 24 hours." Tony flinched, eyes squeezing themselves shut momentarily. He was hiding something again. Steve shook his head. He didn't want to know what it was. This needed to be done. Not for the first time, he was thankful that Tony had decided not to tell them things before they happened. It was harder to rush into a battle knowing the end result.

"Where is he now?" Steve wasn't sure who had asked, but Phillips help up a small picture.

"Hydra's last base is here, in the Alps, Five hundred feet below the surface." Steve nodded. It made sense for Schmidt to be situated somewhere so...well, Godly, though it made him feel sick.

Morita looked up at the Colonel. "So, what are we supposed to do? I mean, it's not like we can just knock on their front door." Steve felt a bitter smile make its way onto his lips.

"Why not?" Everyone in the room snapped their heads in his direction, expressions ranging from shock to worry. Everyone except Tony. His smile was just as bloodthirsty as Steve's' was. Good. He knew what was being planned, then.

"That's exactly what we're going to do."

* * *

** Only three and a quarter chapters left of this story to post now, most of these final ones have been written since I started this, especially chapters 17 and 18, so there won't be many delays in getting them up, probably late Friday night or Saturday morning instead of Tuesday. Still, only one chapter per week, in order for me to be able to get a jump on the next one. Hope you enjoyed. **


	16. When Heroes fall

** This chapter will be in full Steve point of view, and will be the last full chapter with him really in it. Thank you to all the people who have reviewed, liked and follow. You have all done wonders for my self confidence in writing, you have no idea, just by reading the story. **

** It is legitimately insane how difficult it is for me to get into this chapter. Hell, I want to, just not feeling it. I blame it on the movie Kiss Kiss Bang Bang. I can't stop watching it... Anyway, enjoy. **

** Be warned: _Very movie-centric chapter, most everything from dialog to fight scenes come from the movie!_**

_ "I am a plastic man. Wish I could be the one that you'd be proud of." _Plastic Man by Seether

* * *

Tony insisted on being included in the fight, of course, and seeing as they needed everyone the could get, there wasn't too much any of them could do to dissuade him... when he had the bit in his teeth, he didn't stop running, it seemed. It wore the others down too much to do anything else, even had there been.

After that had made itself very clear, they had tried to get Tony to wear some of the spare body armour that they had at hand. After a few pieces were forced onto him, the man had looked constricted, and the bulky material only seeming to serve to get in his way. It was like wrapping a race-horse in canvas, then expecting it to run. He might have been one of the most graceful people Steve had ever seen, but he didn't have the sort of grace of a soldier.

Sufficed to say, the armour was quickly tossed off of him in a heap, much to the worry of most of the Commandos. Tony had never been meant to get into these large firefights for a reason: He didn't wear any protective gear, and would likely get shot. None of them could convince him not to, however, so they were forced to accept it with poor grace.

The only real gear that he had decided to wear were those metal gloves he'd made along with the matching pair of boots. Steve didn't envy him... in this cold, by the end of the mission, not only would the man be tried and cold, but extremely sore. Metal tended not to move the way that leather or cloth did, and Tony would probably be lucky not to break an ankle if he had to do much running.

Steve tried not to look any more worried about his safety than the others expressed, but given the humoured spark that lit in Tony's eye that almost managed to overshadow the forced blank that had been there since they had started to plan. He tried to ignore that look as well. Not that it worked, but he did try.

Actually, he tried to avoid looking at the man at all, seeing as it would get him thinking about things he really shouldn't be, especially when planning out an attack. It would be awkward to explain some of his blushes to the group, if he did, and there would definitely be some explaining to do if he let himself. It didn't work out as well as it should have, but no one said anything. Peggy giving him some weird looks was as close as it came to that.

Which was alright, really. He could deal with looks. It was uncomfortable, but he could handle it much more easily than the questions.

Simultaneously he was grateful and worried about that look in Tony's eye, the one that just shouted that he was hiding something from Steve. On one hand, he was grateful the other man was so distracted, or else he would probably be doing everything in his power to get Steve to blush in front of everyone even more, and silently tease him about it.

On the other, when these looks showed up on the mans face, something bad was probably about to happen. Knowing something was coming, yet not knowing exactly what was... stressful, to say the least. It had him jumping at shadows the entire flight to the drop off point they had picked out.

Unfortunately, they didn't have Tony flying the plane this time, something about civilian pilots not being good enough, though each and every one there who knew Tony knew that he was probably far better the man at the controls right now.

Surprisingly, Tony didn't so much as mutter an argument, even if his eyes had started to narrow into a glare. As soon as Steve had been sure that there was an argument coming, the dark man had just...deflated wasn't quite the right word. Just stopped seeming to care, and let the subject go, that far off gaze not flickering once.

The plane they were in was a massive thing, easily fitting the hundred some people they had dragged along this time, as well as Steve's 'only-slightly-modified-by-Tony' bike. With luck, the bike would get him far enough into enemy territory for the plan to work. If he had trusted Tony any less, he would be having doubts.

Said man was sitting with the rest of the commandos, ignoring their concerned looks as he started at one of the cold metal walls of the creaking plane. He sat silently, so unusual for him, and calmly. Not his normal clam, one that always managed to relax the others, but a calm that seemed to put them all on edge. Even Steve could feel himself getting more nervy by the second.

The plane landed half a mile off, though if Hydra hadn't seen or heard it coming, it would be a miracle. That, or they were deaf and blind, every one of them... which, in its way, could very well be counted as a miracle, to Steve's team, at least. Before they could mobilize an attack force to come after his men, Steve started up his bike, and rode it smoothly out of the plane.

He stopped only long enough to give one last glance back to his team, waiting for Phillips to give him the go ahead. He received it, as well as a solemn nod from each member of his team. Tony managed to snap himself out of whatever had his mind captive long enough to give him a complete breathtaking smile that gave Steve the calming effect he needed to get his bike going again.

He didn't dare look back after he took off on the wide dirt road. He didn't dare see the sad expression that had claimed Tony again, even if he could feel it as the other man watched as he drove away.

He had been right, of course: the plane flying so close to the main Hydra base and landing there had not gone unnoticed. Within moments of losing sight of the plane in his mirrors, six bikes, all far more sleek than his bulky cruiser, were tailing him. He wasn't really sure exactly when they showed up, or how long they tailed him before the bright light-blue of the laser blasts that his shield informed him that they were there.

He muttered to himself under his breath as he jerked his bike into a sharp right turn, hoping to lose at least one of them. No such luck. Apparently, these bikes turned much more smoothly than he'd been hoping, even in this loose mix of dirt and gravel.

He looked down next to his gloved fist at a small control panel that had been hastily wired on by Tony as they had planned this out only hours before, silently thanking God that the man was so good at what he did, even under such pressure. Four switches. Throwing a quick look ahead of him, he saw the perfect spot for the first little trap. He hit the top right switch moments after.

A metallic cable of flexible steel shot out from a hidden compartment at the rear of the bike, and each of the ends drove themselves deeply into trees on opposing sides of the road. With a glance back, he saw the first due react, ducking just in time to keep their heads from becoming detached. The second group hastily followed suit, and likewise made it out perfectly fine. The third group wasn't so lucky... or attentive, perhaps, seeing as they were whipped off of their bikes rather suddenly, sending the machines into the forest to crash and burn.

Dragging his eyes back to the road in front of him, he hit the second switch, and felt, more than saw, the massive gusts of flame spouting behind in, turning the road quite suddenly into an inferno. He heard the scream of agony from a single throat and smelt the roasting, tell-tale sent of singed flesh as another bike tumbled, this time not managing to clear the road for the ones behind him.

He glanced back over his shoulder to see a second bike crash into the burning mass of the other, sending the rider over the handles, the bike torn apart. He smirked, looking in front of him again. Sure, the bikes moved well, but they sure as hell couldn't take a fall like his cruiser would be able to.

He frowned, realizing that the two that had just crashed behind him had been the only ones he had seen on the road... as soon as he figured that out, the other two sped out of the forest in front of him, causing him to jerk the handle-bars from surprise. They obviously didn't see him again, yet, and he smiled again as he righted the course of the bike, hitting the acceleration, kicking it into a higher gear.

He sped between the two carefully, reaching out and pulling the pin out of one of their grenades as he passed by the startled grunts. Their bikes jerked, losing them a touch of speed, just enough that Steve was comfortable slowing down as he passed the edge of their blast zone. It didn't take them long, and he had the road to himself. For about five feet.

After five feet, he because aware of the huge slanted buildings blocking much of either side of the road, the center between them blocked by one of Hydra's massive tanks. He quickly reached behind him, and maneuvered his shield into place in front of him, ducking behind just enough for him to see around. Just in time, as the tank began firing a rapid stream of blasts at him, only one glancing off of the shield, making his bike swerve enough to avoid a second blast.

All around him blue wisps of energy sent the dirt and gravel raining, tearing large holes out of the road. He grimaced as he hit the third switch, and two very small shots fired front the front of his bike.

As soon as he heard metal clang on metal, the tank as a ball of fire and explosive scrap metal, and he found himself blinking at the ferocity of the missiles, suddenly very happy that not only was Tony on their side, but that he'd stopped making weapons like this for the military in his life. He was obviously very good at it... maybe too good. God knows he'd hate to be on the receiving end of anything like it.

He jerked his mind off of that topic with a shake of his head, and steered his bike to one side of the slanted buildings, not wanting to risk going through where the tank had recently been standing. The bike launched itself nicely, and he adjusted his weight as he stood slightly, keeping it balanced as he flew above the ground covered in Hydra grunts below him.

The cruiser was not meant for such jumps, as he quickly learned from the painfully solid landing it made, but it kept going, even if it groaned slightly in protest. The groups around his shot frantically, just ended up hitting either the ground around themselves or each other.

Silently, he had to wonder if all of the grunts who did work for men like Schmidt were slightly brain-dead. They'd kind of have to be, a little, if they bought into this, and were willing to give up their lived because they thought that the man was some kind of God, even if it was proven that he was no such thing again and again.

As he settled the bike out, he hit the final switch by his hand before detaching the shield from its spot in front of him, standing on the seat just long enough to catch his balance. Then, much to the apparent surprise of the Hydra grunts around him, he lept from the speeding bike, and into the top of one of the tanks.

Or at least, that's where he'd been aiming for. He managed to land on top of a very unfortunate man whose bones he could feel crunching under his boots. This sent him off of his course, and left him to roll to his feet very much on the ground a few feet over, away from the tank.

He rolled to his feet smoothly, and in the same motion, using the momentum from his fall, he threw his shield into the throat of another grunt who had come rushing at him. He gathered his shield once it was clear that the mans throat had collapsed, and he felt the vibration of his bike hitting the wall forcefully, a wave of heat telling him that yes, it had done its job in blasting a hole through the door as well.

Deflecting blast after blast, he jumped to knee a man in the face, spinning to send the shots of energy back into the milling crowd growing around him. He slammed the shield into another mans face, and both stumbled away, choking on blood, gasping for a breath of air that would never come, not with how hard they took those hits. He didn't allow himself to think about them as he moved on, tossing a third man into the air with a powerful sweep of his arm and shield.

Extending the sweep, he brought the edge of the shield down onto a fourth mans arm, sending the whirring weapon he held to the ground, and the man stumbled away in blind fear and pain. Throwing the shield into the side of a tank, it deflected, hitting yet another man in the gut, and spun to kick a close, high-racking officers gun out of his hands, before throwing him into the air, getting the man out of his way just in time to catch the falling shield gracefully.

The surrounding area was empty, as far as he could see, and momentarily, he worried that he'd overdone it, that maybe he'd scared them. The next second proved him wrong, of course, as two men burst out on either side of him, and before he could even think about subduing either of them, jets of flame surrounded him, leaving him no escape or room to attack, even had he wanted to.

The Flames didn't last very long, but when they sputtered out, he had been thoroughly surrounded by a massive amount to soldiers, every one of their weapons flickering blue and trained on him. He lowered his shield.

They quickly disarmed him, and he didn't bother to object. As expected, he was dragged through the gaping hole that was still burning from the explosion, up into a huge a story up into the mountain. Seriously, were all grunts that stupid? It certainly made his life so much easier. It also didn't hurt that Schmidt decided to help out as well, and actually showed up in the room. Wow, this was going a lot more smoothly than he'd expected...

"Arrogance may not be a uniquely American trait, but I must say, you do it better than anyone else." Steve smirked up at him. Really, this man was accusing him of being arrogant? Please. Schmidt ignored the smile. "But there are limits to what even you can do, Captain." Steve's face shifted to an icy glare. "Or did Erskine tell you otherwise?"

"He told me you were insane." Schmidt looked slightly put out, and his mouth tightened.

"Ah...He resented my genius, and tried to deny me what was rightfully mine, but he gave you everything. So...What made you so special?" The mans eyes glowered hate at Steve, but Steve allowed himself to smirk again.

"Nothin. I'm just a kid from Brooklyn."Ok, now Schmidt was pissed... he probably should learn not to taunt his captors, seeing as the swift punch to the side of his face hurt a hell of a lot more than a normal person.

His body tried to jerk with the movement of the blow, but Schmidt s other fist came down quickly to counter it on the other side. Added one more to his gut that drove all of his breath from his lungs, and it was all that the lackey's positioned on either side of him could do to slowly lower him to his knees as his legs gave out on him in a moment of blind pain.

He let out a ragged cough as his lungs filled themselves again, a little smug that Schmidt was panting just as much as he was before glaring up at the man from under his cowl. "I could do this all day." Schmidt looked like he wanted to roll his eyes, but instead just turned to meet his stare, and in a sickly sweet mocking tone replied.

"Oh, of course you can, of course. But, unfortunately, I am on a tight schedule." Before he pulled a pistol from his belt, and smiled down at him as he held it to his head. Not good... his team needed to hurry up, already...

As if summoned by his thought, from the outer wall of the room above the window, there were two distinct clicks of steel being driven into stone. Everyone in the room turned in time to see his Commandos speeding down the long cable, and he had time to let out a small laugh. "So am I."

He managed to twist just enough to force one of his captors in front of him just before Schmidt spun around and fired, effectively freeing him from the mans admittedly poor grasp. With a shattering of glass, followed immediately by the rapid smoke and clattering of assorted gunfire, his team was in, and Schmidt was running.

He jerked his arm from the grasp of the second grunt holding him, and tossed him to the center of what had become the killing ground before turning to give chase to the Red Skull. Falsworths' distracted shout of "Rogers! You might need this." was the only thing that made him pause, and he turned in time to catch his shield as it soared into his grasp. He yelled back a quick thanks that was drowned out by the sound of a shot-gun, and kept running.

The ran through the twisting caverns of the base, the sounds of a fire-fight everywhere, as well as the bloody stains that seeped into the stone around dead and dying bodies, sometimes even through the fights that were occurring all around them, and for the most part they were ignored. Twice Steve had to throw his shield up to deflect blasts from Schmidt's pistol, but he didn't slow his pace.

Finally he got the chance he'd been waiting for as Schmidt rounded a slightly curved section in the corridor. The second the last flat of red had disappeared behind the gray stone, Steve took and and threw his shield to deflect off of the cold wall. The angle was perfect, and he should hear the muffled shout as his shield connected quickly... instead, he heard the grating metallic clang of cold steel closing around his shield. Damn, door.

He missed half a step only before running forward to round the corner...

And immediately backtracked, almost stumbling over himself in his haste to get away from the sudden flames that sprang to life around him. Before the flamethrower could catch him, he ducked into a small corner of the building, muttering at himself angrily.

A blast of white crackling energy cut through the flames before the stone around him had the chance to warm up, cutting a hole straight through the man wielding the flames, quenching them as he toppled over.

Steve pun to catch sight of a smiling Tony raising an eyebrow at him. " Lose something, Cappy?" He couldn't help himself, even with a few of the other soldiers milling at attention around the commanding man. He walked up to him, probably much closer than he should have, and caught his eyes.

"Your late." If anything, the smirk grew wider.

"Fashionably." He glanced over Steve at the glint of his shield still stuck in the door. "Weren't you doing something?"

He blushed, and stepped around the other man. "Right..." He pushed on again, after Schmidt. Hopefully the man hadn't gotten too far ahead...

His hopes were dashed quickly as he yanked the shield from the door and sprinted through the empty hall, bursting out into a madhouse.

By madhouse, he of course meant a large, open, covered landing court that was filled to the brim with Hydra agents fighting his own troops in much larger scale than he had seen thus far. Schmidt was bound to be in the massive jet that was slowly turning around to face the small speck of light that was the opening to the tunnel.

There must have been a shorter route that he had missed, because he made out a few of the men that had been with Tony only minutes before. As he started to sprint through the masses, he managed to catch sight of Tony as well, running alongside the soldier as the fought their way through the building.

He outpaced many of them, but couldn't quite keep up with Steve as he all but danced through the groups of people with a sinuous, deadly grace. The gloves that covered his arms whirred into life and blasted apart enemy after enemy, anyone who dared get in his way.

Iron Man, he'd told Steve, was what most people of his time called him. Even with just those gloves, he could see why. The man looked almost out-of-place, on the ground, and his eyes may as well have been made from copper, for as hard as they stared down the rushing men.

Even so, Steve couldn't help but feel the familiar twinge of worry for the older man. Not that there was any way that the man needed to be protected, as he was making quite clear. Iron Man spun and flowed through the crowds rushing towards him. He wasn't sure that he had ever seen anyone so fierce.

And from the way Hydra tried to spill away from Stark, neither had they. He was almost frightened himself. He might have been a Super-Soldier, but Tony seemed to be death, hunting for souls to reap.

Steve launched himself over an over-turned crate, and caught a large chain that hung from the ceiling, using it to, for the most part, Swing easily over the ongoing battle below. He landed heavily, only missing a beat before he was running again, bashing his shield into any close-by Hydra agent that he could reach until there weren't anymore close to him, and he was running away from the thick of the battle.

Also something that he can't help but notice, the jet is getting farther away from him, no matter how fast he was running. Too fast. Damn. He slowed to a halt, breathing heavily. This wasn't good...

The long, roaring sound of an engine cut into the air beside him, the smell of burning tires overwhelming the moist sent of blood that hung heavy in the air. Glancing over, his eyes caught Colonel Phillips.

"Get in." He didn't waist a second before throwing himself into the seat, eyes fixed on the plane as it gained distance between them. Phillips slammed his foot onto the acceleration, and they jerked forward after it.

They had just started moving when a second body threw itself into the rear seat, vaulting over the back, panting and coughing.

"Shit...need...air." Tony caught his breath quickly, tossing a smile at a wide-eyed Steve. "You looked...absolutely... ridiculous, by the..way. Swinging on chains... Honestly, I'll have to teach you better than that..." Phillips rolled his eyes as he sped after the fast-moving jet, but Steve let himself laugh.

To the cars credit, it was exceedingly fast, faster than any car he'd had the pleasure of driving in before, though the air didn't crash around him quite as frantically as it had on top of that train. They actually managed to gain on the aircraft, but it was clear that it was accelerating past the maximum speed of the vehicle they were in could handle.

Until, that was, Tony leaned over Steve's shoulder and punched a large button in front of Phillips, and the roar of fire surrounded them. Suddenly, they were all but flying themselves, and they jet was getting larger in front of their eyes. Unfortunately, so was the bright end to the runway that led out of the mountain.

He hoped that his terror wasn't as obvious as the wide-eyed Phillips as they maneuvered around practically under the huge craft. Tony was grinning, of course, undisturbed by the speed. If anything, he reveled in it.

As they got under the plane, Steve uneasily got up onto the seat, balancing against the wind as he stood, carefully, leaning on the side of the car.

"Keep her steady!" He had to shout to be heard over the roar of the combined engines of the jet and the long car, not to mention the howling wind. He saw Phillips nod.

"Wait!" As soon as Tony spoke, Steve felt a warm hand clutch his shoulder, and he turned... To get an armful of Tony as he flung himself into him. He only barely managed to register it before the mans soft mouth crushing against his, hard and intense, everything that depicted the moment. For a few heartbeats, Everything else around him was swallowed away, the noise drown out, the panic simply gone, and all he could feel, all he could comprehend was Tony.

And then it was over, and he was left blinking down at the man, wide eyed, heat flushing through his body against the cold of the mountain. Tony smirked, and said, just loud enough to be heard over the combined roars echoing around them, "Have fun. And you owe me a dance, Cap."

Then everything came rushing back to him, and he felt panic rising in his chest. How could he possibly leave the man now, after that? But he didn't have a choice. He glanced over at Phillips, another stab of fear jolting into him, but that didn't last long. The man just rolled his eyes, obviously fighting off a small smile, and yelled over,

"I'm not kissing you." Steve hid a smile, then turned back to the jet, refusing to glance back at Tony every few seconds... mostly.

In fact, immediately after one of the times he couldn't quite resist, he was forced to bend down awkwardly and quickly to avoid being chewed up by the propellers that they were just a little too close to. He heard the grating of metal as it struck the shield strapped to his back, but he didn't worry. It was doubtful the thing had even been scratched.

He reached out from his position in the car, but the jet was too far away, and too sleek to grab hold of, besides. What he needed was...

A wheel. Perfect. He took a deep breath that he had meant to be calming, but he could feel the blood pounding in his ears still. Them he carefully climbed over the door of the car, and slowly edged his way along the edge to the front of the car, his breathing getting slightly less panicked as he inched along. He was wearing the boots Tony had made, so as long as he didn't miss a step, he would be fine...

But, he had seen what would happen if he missed. He crushed down the pain of Bucky's death again. Now was not the time to bring that up.

Just as he crouched in front of the hood, the jet's wheel left the runway, and he had no choice. Now or never, he jumped...

To grab the hot metal of the wheel casing, to which he held onto with every ounce of strength he had, and still he felt his muscles burning. It wasn't completely obvious to him whether it was just the friction heat soaking into him from the metal, or if was really taking so much out of him just to hold on, and he didn't care... he simply wanted off of the damn thing. He did take the opportunity to steal one last glance behind him to make out the car on the edge of the platform, Tony staring after him from where he stood in the back seat.

It didn't take long for his wish to be granted, and the wheel was retracting up into the jet, and when it finally came to a stop, he slid off gratefully. He glanced around quickly, taking in his surroundings. There were large crafts taking up most of the space, ones with what he recognized to be war-heads... really big ones. They were labeled.

His eyes drifted over a few dread building in his gut. Chicago. Washington, D.C. Yew York. Not good.

Before he really thought about it, he jumped up onto the catwalk...and found Hydra soldier waiting for him. Well, to be fair, they weren't waiting for him, or even expecting him, it would seem. This enabled him to hook his arm around one of the support beams and take out one of them quickly with a boot to his face before he landed behind the others.

The fight moved quickly, once they realized that he was there, and they sadly didn't do what he had expected, and come at him one at a time. They actually ganged up on him. In the end it didn't matter much, as he crushed in the face of at least two, and managed to throw a knife to subdue one who'd been going for one of the missile pilot seats. How he managed to do so, he wasn't sure... maybe he just had good aim when it came to throwing things in general.

'_Too bad.'_ He thought humourlessly to himself. _'Probably could have made a killing if I'd gone into baseball instead.'_

The sound of one of the glass panels covering the pilot's seat to a missile broke him out of his thoughts enough to rush over to the control panel and hit the large "OPEN" button on it before the soldier had finished climbing in.

He hung in the air for a few heartbeats, struggling as his plane fell away under him into the open, harmless. He didn't last long, and his screams were swallowed by the roar of the wind. Two others showed up as the man was whisked out of sight, and he bashed one of them with his shield. The other, he tossed out of the plane from the hole without much struggle from him.

It took too long, however, and the first man had managed to get himself into one of the devices. It was all Steve could do to launch himself on top of it and break the seal to the glass before yet another soldier was on top of him, the force throwing his shield away from him and the hatch under the plane opened.

Thankfully, this one didn't fall away as the other one had: It whirred to life under him, and the only thing keeping him on was his frantic grip to the cool metal under him, not managing to get his feet under him, seeing as the only thing keeping the soldier on was his death-grip around Steve.

The plane shook back and forth in an effort of get them off, and as it took straight up into the air, he felt his grip give slightly. It didn't break only due to the fact that the soldiers did, throwing him into the propellers under them, leaving a fine pink mist to settle behind them.

With his bottom half free, he got his feet under him enough to toss open the glass and hit the eject button on the pilot's seat, sending him careening out into the open air.

He didn't have any experience with flying planes, much less ones where he couldn't understand the words on them, but it seemed straight forward enough, and he managed to bring the missile around, back towards the larger jet. Schmidt must have realized that the missile had gone rogue because he starting shooting at him, though only one of his shots glanced off of one of the wings before Steve crash landed the thing back in the plane with a force that made his teeth rattle.

Jumping out of the ruined thing, he carefully picked up his shield and walked on, meeting no other Hydra agents on his walk to the flight deck. At least there was that.

He peered in carefully around the bulky metal door before stepping into the room, careful not to make a sound that would alert Schmidt. In the center of the room, right behind the pilot's seat, as a large metal device that shone blue where there were openings in the metal. The same blue as the Hydra weapons... must be the power source.

He took a careful step towards it before he hear a scuffling behind him, and he let his instincts guide him, jumping to the side as an energy bast bit through where he'd been standing.

"You don't give up, do you!?" It might have just been him, but Schmidt sounded honest to God amused as he said this. Steve glared around him.

"Nope." Rolling to the side, and twisting around, be blocked another blast from the pistol as he rushed the man. Then another before knocking the weapon from the Red Skulls hands. At the same time, his shield was once again sent off, away from him, but he paid it no mind, focusing fully on crushing Schmidt.

The man hardly had Tony's speed, but what he did have he used to avoid every one of Steve's attacks as he wore himself out. _'this isn't working...' _as he tried to adjust his strategy, the man must have sensed a shift, and he finally struck out, a good solid punch to Steve's gut that sent him to the ground, where he was then violently kneed in the stomach again.

He took his chance when Schmidt was preparing another kick, when he was unbalanced, to tackle him into the metal wall near them. He punched him once before they both fell to the ground, where he crawled a few inches to grab a crate to promptly smash down on Schmidt's head.

Before Schmidt could react, Steve grabbed his neck from behind in a choke hold and stood. He hadn't anticipated the mans violent struggling nor how near they had gotten to the front of the plane, and he was forced to roll over the glowing blue device that hummed contentedly in the center, un-heeding of the struggle taking place around it. He had been forced to release Schmidt in favor of jumping over to grab his shield.

Schmidt was on him in a second, throwing punch after punch, Steve blocking furiously, trying to find a way out. While he was distracted just slightly, Schmidt grabbed his shield firmly twisting it around, and bashed it into his face. _'Ouch, so that's how that feels...'_

Backed against the metal device, he closed his eyes for half a heartbeat, willing himself to come up with something. _'Let go.'_ the voice sounded so suspiciously like Tony in his head that he didn't think twice about it.

Headbutting the Red Skull painfully, he grabbed the shield back and kicked the man to the front of the plane, breaking the pilot's chair, and into the control panel.

Within the space of a heartbeat, as the plane dipped into an uncontrolled nosedive towards the unforgiving blue of the ocean, gravity deserted them. For a brief second, the breath left his lungs, and refused to fill themselves as even the air around them condensed. Then, as he struggled to catch a breath, he hit the ceiling, the hard hit startling his lungs back into working order... only to have the air driven out again as Schmidt crashed into him.

They exchanged punches that lost a lot of their force due to lack of gravity and Steve hardly felt them, even when one sent him flying away from Schmidt across the plane.

Schmidt took the opportunity to force his way to the control panel and straighten the plane out, once again sending Steve to crash to the ground, falling in the right direction this time, at least. He stood easily and his eyes went at once to Schmidt, who had re-acquired his pistol and was aiming at him.

"You could have the power of the Gods!" He rolled to the side to avoid a blast of plasma. "Yet you wear a flag on your chest and think you fight a battle of Nations!" another blast shot out of the barrel, and Steve ducked under the side panels, eyes searching for his shield. "I have seen the future, Captain: There are no flags." Steve smiled unexpectedly.

_'So have I.'_ "Not my Future!" He caught sight of the Shield and wasted no time in leaping over the derbies surrounding the room, ignoring the shots around him, and came up from a dive-roll, Shield in hand just in time to block another shot.

With a quick snap of his wrist, he sent the shield into Schmidt's stomach with such force that he slammed into the blue device, managing to finally rattle the damn thing. A glistening blue cube fell from the device and the humming got louder, emanating from the cube.

Schmidt stood, eyes glued to the device. "What have you done?" the man muttered under his breath, for the first time sounding rattled. Then, he reached down and picked the thing up, staring at it, eyes brimming with desire and just a hint of the madness that was so clearly in him.

Space opened above them, a scattering of Stars thrown in clumps amidst the Deep ebony and rich scarlet stretched where plain gray metal had been but a moment before.

Then, the Skull screamed, and spreading from his arm, his entire body seemed to be torn apart, sucked up into the vacuum of scape, taken by a blue light too bright to look at for long. As quickly as the opening had sprung into existence, it closed with a last blast of blue energy and an echoing scream. Then the cube fell to the ground.

Not daring to touch it, he allowed it to melt its way through two layers of metal, and from the plane into the ocean below. '_What the hell..?'_ He shook his confusion off almost instantly, rushing to the front of the plane, taking in the controls. It was on cruise control, headed for New York... Not good. Not even remotely...

He sat in the rickety pilots chair, and punched in the coordinated for his teams radio frequency. Morita answered the distress signal quickly.

"Come in, this is Captain Rogers, do you read me?" A spattering of static fizzled through the com before the Asians voice cleared through it.

"Captain Rogers, what is your loca..." There was the sound of a minor struggle from the other end, and Peggy's voice quickly replayed his team-mates.

"Steve, is that you? Are you alright!?" She sounded as panicky as he felt.

"Peggy, Schmidt's dead." He tried to force his voice to remain calm, but he could hear himself shaking. Hopefully they just attributed that to the static or the plane or something.

"...What about the plane?" He flipped a switch, and sighed.

"That's a little tougher to explain." Her voice changed, suddenly calm and confident.

"Send me your coordinates, I'll find you a safe landing site..." He shook his head, knowing she couldn't see him and not caring. There were still six live missiles on board, and he hardly knew how to disarm any of them, certainly not quickly enough.

"There's not going to be a safe landing...But I can try to force her down." His throat tried to close, and he blinked tears from his eyes. He wasn't going to be able to see Tony again. Not going to be able to kiss him properly...

"Steve, hold on, I'll find a way to contact Tony, he'll _know _what to do." Her voice quivered with fear now, and he felt his eyes squeeze shut. He hated putting his friends through this. Deep down, he knew that Tony had known this would happen, and he was briefly furious at him for not giving him some kind of warning... but then, if he had, he doubted that he would have had the courage to get on the plane.

So no, he couldn't be mad at the genius. He just couldn't. "There's no time... Peggy, this thing is moving too fast, and it's headed for New York. I gotta put her in the water." His throat closed up as he uttered the last. No, he wouldn't have been able to do this if he'd have known. For as much as Tony said that he didn't understand people, he understood Steve all too well, it seemed. And that was enough for him.

"Please, don't do this, we have time, we can work it out..." he could hear the tears in her voice, but he pushed her fear and his own aside enough for him to cut her off.

"Right now, I'm in the middle of nowhere, if I wait any longer, a lot of people are going to die. Peggy. This is my choice." He didn't wait for her to reply, but pushed down as hard as he could on the controls and he felt himself crushed back into the seat, tears streaming from his eyes towards his ears. "Peggy?"

"I'm here, Steve."

"Could you tell Tony that I'll need a rain check on that dance?" She gave a sob and a startled snort of laughter.

"I think he'll need one too. He left after you got on the plane to find his way home... But I'll see to it that he gets your message."

Steve could have sighed in relief. At least Tony was safe. And when he woke up -he knew he would, how else could Tony have known him- He would at least have someone waiting for him. Tony's words to him that night in the pub popped into his head.

"Don't worry. You won't be alone. Never." At the time, he'd thought that had only meant against Hydra. Now he understood.

No, he wouldn't be alone. And that thought alone enabled him to smile as the plane hit the massive amount of ice with such a force that he was knocked unconscious and swallowed by the frozen ocean.

* * *

** Oh, owwww... just spent the entire day cutting down trees, pulling up sage-brush(If you don't know what that is, hope you never have to find out.) then burning it all, on about 20 minutes of sleep. I blame any mistakes in this chapter on the fact that I got home and decided to write this instead of falling over. **

** And sorry for the kind of sad ending this chapter. I've had that ending written for months. Feels good to finally use it. **


	17. When the Panther prowls

** OK, so here's the deal with this chapter: I adore the Black Panther. Next to Iron man, Cap and Deadpool, he is my favorite. And it seems he's one of the more under-rated Avenger, given that Hawkeye (who I do love as well, but has not been known to be a favorite character by most people, based on comics) is in the Avengers over him. I intended to have this as two chapters, but in the end decided that it worked well enough as one slightly longer chapter. Enjoy. **

** But seriously, T'Challa is a bad-ass. For this story, Wakanda was really the only place I could think of that it would make sense to have that sort of technology.**

** Melissen: I would love to do a Harry/Perry fic... once I actually manage to get a better grasp on the characters, else I'd probably make Harry a bit too much like Tony or Sherlock, and that's not him at all...**

_"Hate me all you want, I'll be ok. I'm half the world away." _For You and Your Denial ~ by Yellowcard

* * *

Tony let his feet hit the ground heavily as the small amount of energy he'd connected to his make-shift thrusters wore off. It was irritating, not having Jarvis there to regulate the amount that went into his flying, but he'd have to deal with it.

He couldn't exactly put more energy into them while he was flying without running the risk of putting too much power into them, and being un-able to disconnect, which would leave him completely and utterly screwed, most likely plummeting to his death. Not an experience he wanted to repeat soon, especially if this time it meant doing so without a layer of protective metal between him and the hard ground.

So, here he was, basically making bunny-hops (OK, that wasn't completely fair, seeing as he was still making better time than most people would have been able to without use of a jet) across Europe, now somewhere in Africa.

He knew that he had to be getting close... after all, he had had small business dealings with the reclusive people of Wakanda all of his life, and they had always been unprecedentedly helpful, the only place he had ever found that had tech even close to as advanced as his was. Fortunately for him, they generally did not make weapons. He could only hope that they might have some little thing up their sleeve for this situation.

He forced himself not to think about Steve as he hooked the metal wiring jutting out from under his shirt into each of the small packs attached to each of the four thrusters in turn, angry with himself that he hadn't told the man what he was getting into. But, at the time, that had seemed rather counter-productive.

_'Oh yeah, and when you jump on the plane, you'll lose the Tesseract, destroy you're arch-enemy, but then you'll decide to crash a massive jet with nuclear bombs filling it to the brim into the ocean, which will lead to you getting frozen for nearly 70 years, and when you wake up, all of your friends will be dead, and you won't understand shit. But, seriously, have fun.' _Maybe he still wouldn't have hesitated to go save the day, but maybe he would decide not to. What the fuck did he know what Steve would decide, he was Tony Stark, not a god damned mind-reader.

As he finally finished with his boots, he looked up... to find the tip of a _very_ sharp, oddly metallic spear unnervingly close to his nose.

And as it had never done before when he'd been threatened, his mind simply turned off for a few seconds as he stared at the metal, eyes wide and mouth dry. He was remotely aware that one of his gloved hands held the wire connected to his reactor, but the gloved had absolutely no power within themselves.

When his mind suddenly turned back on, the first thing he could think was a long,. Random assortment of curses that seemed to end and start with _'holy-fucking-shit.' _

He licked his lips gently, trying to decide what the best thing here to do was... finally he finalized on _'better take stock of your surroundings, Stark.'_ he forced his eyes away from the spear itself, and onto the person holding it. He was a large man, not nearly as built as the Captain, but still, he out-sized Tony easily. Nearly black eyes gazed at him from under a heavy, dark brow.

Swallowing, and moving slowly -a speed he wasn't aware he was capable of- he turned his head, taking in at least four other, all roughly eight feet from him, luckily, but all looked at him with a grim certainty. Two women stood with the men, looking easily more bored and detached from the current situation. As if they killed people, or watched them being killed, on a daily basis.

He spared a thought to Natasha. She'd fit in nicely with them. Unbidden, a small smile formed on his face for a moment, and the man in front of him moved half an inch backwards in confusion at the smile, then hardened his face, and said through a thick accent.

"You have trespassed into our lands. You will tell us how you made it this far in, or your death will not come quickly.' Tony's eyes turned back to the mans. He thought he recognized the accent from somewhere, very distinct, but his fear-fogged mind didn't come up with anything right away.

"Uhhhh..." Oh, yeah, Tony. Way to sound smart, there, every eloquent. He cleared his throat and tried again. " Well, first of all, I didn't see any signs saying 'Stay Out of our Airspace,', buddy. Second, no need to worry, I'll be out of your hair soon, just need to refuel myself," he tapped the wire gently onto his other gloved hand for emphasis, " and then, boom, that will be that. No need to be all threatening, now."

The mans brow scrunched together in confusion, and opened his mouth to say something, when one of the others cut him off.

"You mean to say you flew into your lands..? Where is your ship, then, pilot?" A huge dark figure pulled itself out of the grass gracefully, and if his mind didn't suddenly connect the man and the accents of the others to something familiar, he would have been terrified as the towering man stood to all of his considerable height.

As he took in sight of him, swathed in an interestingly sewn outfit of midnight black, masked face outlined by deep yellow eyes, topped by spiked ears, he couldn't help but smile broadly at one of the most dangerous men in the world. Most people outside of Wakanda didn't know he even existed, of course, but that made him no less deadly. Or brilliant. He immediately relaxed, taking in the form of the Black Panther, the King, leader and protector of Wakanda. He had spoken to the man about scientific projects countless times in the past, and the physicist all too often had given him permission to actually come into Wakanda to study with them.

He'd never actually gotten around to it, and with this reception, he wasn't exactly blaming his past... or future, as the case may be... self for not doing so earlier. Apparently, none of the fighters had expected such a reaction at seeing their fierce warrior king, as they now stared all at him with wide eyes, jaws slack. He was honestly surprised when they didn't faint then and there when he spoke.

"God fucking dammit, T'Challa. I think we both know that that wasn't very nice, man. Really, for a second, there, I was seriously concerned that my head would be on a pike, somewhere." He walked away from the spear calmly, the holder, as well as the others just watching, in shock, mouths openly gaping now, as he walked up and poked the suited man solidly in the chest. "I mean, really. Now I know why you were always insisting that I come out here sometime, you just wanted to watch me shit myself, didn't you? No, don't bother answering, I think you know me better than to think that I would be _that_ senseless."

Finally, he snapped his mouth shut as the confused eyes of the Panther looked down on him, frown clear against the tight fabric of his mask. "My name is not T'Challa, lost one." He paused at Tony's not so shocked face, and tilted his head to the side. "You do not have the smell of this time on you...But I can sense... something in you. I am T'Chaka."

Suddenly seeming to understand how ridiculous they looked, each of the warriors relaxed, and acted as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

Tony was a bit put out, he had to admit. He had seen a familiar figure and had gotten hopeful... then again, he should have known better. T'Challa had once told him that every ruler of Wakanda took on the mantle of the Black Panther, and had to pass certain rights to rise to the title, so this must be one of T'Challa's relatives... most probably his father. And given his lack of response to the name, he doubted that the one-day Panther was born yet.

"...So, you have no idea who I am."

"That is correct."

"Well, shit. Going to follow through and kill me then?"

"I do not think so."

"Well, there's a plus." Tony's grin returned in full force and he held his hand out. "Anthony Stark. You can just call me Tony."

The king stared at his hand a moment before taking it, being careful, Tony noted, not to stab him with those vicious claws

"I would like to know, then, Antony. How is it that you are here?"

Tony considered for a second. "Depends on what you mean... _Here_ here or _when_ here?"

It was obvious now that under his cowl, the Panther was smiling. " Why not keep this simple, and tell both?" Tony laughed, startling the closest warriors into jumping.

"Well, for the first, I flew in..." The warrior behind him interrupted.

"But that is not possible! Our detectors..."

"Would not pick up such a small object flying as a single man. Or, am I mistaken, Anthony? Did you fly a craft here?" The Black Panther turned his glare from the warrior to calmly gaze at Tony.

He frowned from the use of his full first name, but he shrugged off quickly enough. "Dead in the black." He held up his gloved hand cockily. "With enough power, my repulsors allow me to fly... however, as it stands, I can't keep them too full, or I'd never land... safely, that is. Which is why," He gestured to the ground, " My pit stop."

The Panther turned an interested eye to the crude device, but said nothing. " Fascinating... may I ask why you were flying across our lands?" Tony pulled off one glove and handed it to the king, who simply blinked and took the device with a confused happiness.

"The most interesting thing... I was actually in search of your people... I thought that maybe you would be able to help me. Which will answer your last question. I, uh, look, I know this is going to sound crazy." He paused, waiting for T'Chaka's nod before continuing, "Basically, completely cliff-noted version, I got off-my-ass drunk, decided to work on new inventions, one being basically a teleporter that I... well, lets just say that I made a small miscalculation, and I ended up here...or now, I guess. Not my proudest moment. But the thing is, I'm sure I'd be able to reverse it if I had any idea what I actually did to it when I started, but, like I said..."

"Off-your-ass drunk.. I understand. I am sorry, Anthony. My people do have designs for such a device as the one you need-I'll ask you not to ask how we acquired this and leave it at our people have always been interested in fringe science- all of our sources of energy for it have been too weak to power it long enough... When are you from, then?"

Tony sighed in defeat, and murmured "Two thousand twelve." Then, suddenly felt like hitting himself for being such an idiot. They needed a better source of more powerful energy...If they needed a better power source, he could think of none better than an arc reactor. Not like it would mess things up any more than they already were, after all. He had given the designs to Howard, why not Wakanda? They were a lot less likely to do anything sinister with the information.

He gave T'Chaka a huge, shit eating grin before saying, as confidently as he could manage, " I might just be able to help you there. If I can, would you be willing to get me home?"

Suddenly, the yellow eyes jumped from his glove back up to him, excitement for the possibility for a new source of energy stealing all of his attention. "We could... what have you in mind...?"

Tony gestured towards the thick jungle. " Shall we walk and talk? No offense, but as much as I love standing around in knee-high grass, I am rather tired from an extended flight..." T'Chaka laughed and nodded to his warriors, who all stood, and stiffly began to walk into the trees. T'Chaka placed his powerful arm around Tony's shoulder, and they calmly followed.

"Now, I know how careful you guys are about what you use, so this should be fine for you, seeing as it's a clean energy source. I call it the Arc Reactor."

The walk through the Wakandan jungles to their city was long and especially tiring, if only to Tony. While T'Challa walked calmly along side him as the discussed things...mostly the reactor...the others of the group would jog slowly ahead, scouting, doubling back behind them, and never really stopped moving.

Every now and again, T'Challa would have to pause their talk to move Tony away from particular areas in the deep under-growth surrounding them, always taking time to stop and show him why. At times it was a poisonous snake, just waiting for an unsuspecting leg to munch on if it got too close. Other times, it was a clever and well hidden trap set up by the Wakandans to keep people out of their lands, each so vicious that it had him wishing it to be a snake instead.

After having it pointed out and explained, they would continue, picking up where they'd left off in the conversation as if nothing had happened. Tony began trying to pick out snakes and traps before T'Challa had a chance to show him, and he got rather good at it for having spent most of his life in larger cities T'Challa just walked along with a hidden smile, with no more concern about the dangerous items scattered about them than Tony would be in his lab back in New York.

Tony didn't miss a beat, of course, no matter how many times they stopped, even if his blood froze to sludge and his heart beat painfully hard against his reactor every time they paused to look at something that was "fascinating" or "truly a beautiful work of nature." Which, to him, translated into "Just about every reason why I never want to leave a city again in my life."

It wasn't like he could say anything of the sort, of course, seeing as T'Challa truly seemed to enjoy this wilderness. Instead, he studied whatever he was shown with real interest, information he stored in the back of his mind, hoping he'd never have to use it again, and kept his face completely clam.

At least it kept his mind firmly where he wanted it: away from Steve, and what he'd just condemned the man to. Away from the fact that as soon as he got back, Steve would hate him all over again. Away from the loss... Dammit, he'd been thinking about it again. The Black Panther must have sensed his mind drifting somewhere else, and he let him have his silence, not even pausing when Tony saw a sleek black snake curled into itself on a nearby tree.

The first sight of Wakanda as it appeared in a sudden clearing in front of the was... breath-taking, to say the least. Well, it would have been, had it been anyone other than Tony Stark viewing it. With the massive gleaming walls, the clean, sleek buildings, even the huge obsidian Panthers that stretched into the sky.

And of course the first thing that Tony had to think was, 'Talk about crazy cat lady...' He would have felt bad about it all, but seriously, these guys were just a touch too obsessed.

Thankfully his thought to mouth connection was still a bit on the frazzled side, largely in thanks the guards that through the entire hike to the city had taken to disappearing, then popping up, trying their damn best to scare the shit out of him... either that, or they were, you know, just doing their jobs, but Tony didn't buy that. The way they kept shooting him confused glances off didn't help his opinion on the matter, either.

The city was beautiful in of itself, that was impossible to deny, despite the lack of the noise pollution and sky-scrapers that just screamed "Home" at him, but still, beautiful. It was the sort of place most people would see and think Utopia, the air everywhere clear, children dodging their elders as they ran through the streets un-afraid, everyone shockingly in amazing health. He had to wonder if it was still like this in his time.

He hoped so, even if it wasn't exactly his own Ideal... It was obvious that they were all happy, here. And given the fact that they had well trained soldier, and hell, a warrior king, it just as obvious that they knew what they had, and that they were hardly oblivious to outside threats. He probably would have found it a lot more interesting of a place if he weren't so exhausted, both from the physical strain he'd been putting himself through and mentally from forcing himself not to think about... things.

Thankfully, once they were inside the walls, T'Chaka wasted no time in getting them up to his home...or, mansion, really. As much as he wanted to, Tony really wasn't up for a tour of the gleaming city, with all of those faces staring at him... he'd had to deal with people watching his every move since early childhood, and he knew damn well when he needed some alone time away from that, and this was just about a prime example.

Sketching plans in silence on the cool stone floor while T'Chaka sat watching without a word was close enough. Sure, it wasn't difficult work, not nearly enough to keep his mind in check, and he would have killed at that moment to hear some AC/DC, but it was as close as he was about to get.

As soon as he finished the last detail on the plans, he stood, stretching, and had a plate of...something... thrust into his hands by the Black Panther. He wasn't sure what it was, and he really wasn't sure he wanted to know, but it smelled amazing and seemed to force his stomach into realizing that it was ravenous. So, they exchanged places, T'Chaka crouching down, yellow eyes examining the sheets of paper spread out in front on him, and Tony sat down a few feet away, slowly eating. It somehow tasted even better than it smelled... once he got back, he'd have to have T'Challa send over some Wakandan recipes...maybe then he'd actually remember to eat more often.

After about half of the plate was devoured, Tony looked up from his meal at T'Chaka, who was still staring down at blue-prints for the reactor that Tony had drawn up for him. _'That's twice now that I've drawn up those plans withing the span of two months. Maybe I should just start carrying pre-printed ones around.' _He considered wryly to himself.

He frowned. It had eluded him since he'd met the man, but he finally remembered why this man was no longer the King in his time, excluding age. He'd been assassinated... on a trip away from Wakanda. He hadn't told anyone else the direct future for them since he'd gotten to this time, and for perfectly logical reasons: They wouldn't handle it well. But this was Wakanda. If anyone had the ability to accept something like that, it was them "You know, I feel that I have to warn you about..."

T'Chaka held up one hand, and met him with even eyes. "The future should not be told by a visitor here. It only proves to take away the choice of the concerning figure. Thank you for the consideration, but I would rather face my problems in life with the choice still mine." Then he went back to his studying, and the subject was dropped completely.

Tilting his head to the side, thinking about it briefly, he shrugged, and secretly smiled to himself. At least there was another person out there that thought that he had made the right choice in not telling the future...well, too much.

Very quietly, T'Chaka stood, and took the blue-prints before turning and walked away, calling over his shoulder, "I believe that I know where to build. Do not worry, my friend, it shall be done quickly. Truly, this is a great gift." The last faded as the man walked farther away, and Tony wondered if he'd been meant to hear that.

As it turned out, when the Black Panther spoke, shit got done.

That wasn't to say that it was finished instantly, as he halfway wished it were, but it certainly didn't take more than half a week. Shit, these guys worked fast. And as he went over their work to find any mistakes, he was shocked to find only a few minor ones that would in no way hamper the reactor. These guys were good... too bad they didn't talk to anyone outside of Wakanda, though...

_'Except me.'_ He thought with a smirk. Below where he sat, the large reactor whirred itself into life, It's blue glow brightening the already sunny day. Too sunny, he could admit. Those guys working down in the hot sun: Completely insane. He was sure of it. Even sitting calmly in the shade, he felt like he was wandering the desert again, hoping for someone to happen across him.

Oddly enough, he preferred the flashbacks of Afghanistan to what was trying to demand his attention. He wanted nothing of that.

The night before, he'd found an old broken radio. Being who he was, it didn't remain broken very long. In testing it, of course, his hands had automatically adjusted the dials to the Howling Commandos' _preferred station, purely out of reflex, really... Where Peggy's voice had assaulted him, sounding surprised as all hell to hear him.

Surprised and pissed off. As a rule, he tried to avoid pissed off women. It seemed that he always ended up at the short end of the stick when he didn't. Really, he wasn't surprised that she was angry with him. He was angry with him. It was what she had said to him after her initial yelling and name-calling.

"You are troubled." Tony started, and whipped his body to face the lean man as he folded himself down onto the bench next to him. Even out of his suit, this man had the presence of a hunting cat. His confusion at those words must have been embarrassingly obvious. "Your posture screams that you are."

"It's nothing. Just...thinking is all" At T'Chaka's raised eyebrow, he was compelled to continue. "I don't understand people. Just when I think I've figured out what someone's response to a situation will be, they blindside me and make me re-evaluate everything I know about them. Make me question myself, and I don't like it." The gaze didn't even flicker, he felt the eyes searing into him.

"You speak of this Captain Rogers, do you not?" he nodded. Of course on the second day there, the man had coaxed every scrap of the story out of him. It was just damn hard to say "no", or "back off" when the man wanted to know something...Tony liked to think that he had the same effect on people, honestly. "What has made you question him? I had believed that he was out of immediate reach."

Tony paused, and considered not saying anything. But then, maybe he could help. It was worth at least a shot... and with hope, he wouldn't make himself look like too much of an idiot. "I received a message from him from before the plane went down. He said that he wanted to reschedule our plans to go dancing...but he had to have known that I knew what he'd been heading into at the start of that fight. I mean, shit. He's not stupid. How can he not hate me for keeping that from him? Even I hate me for it."

T'Chaka's eyes gazed at him intently, with an almost curious gleam in them.

"Anthony..."

"Call me Tony. I dislike being called Anthony." For a second, he thought that the tall man would question that, but after a pause, he shrugged, accepting it.

"Very well. Tony. There is a thing known to Wakandans, that has been known for many generations: It is not human nature to know some things. It is the untold beauty and power of our species that we _cannot_ be understood, that we cannot know another's heart, another's mind. It is what makes us human.

"There will always be things that we'll never be able to explain. For, what if we did answer all of the questions? If there were nothing to strive for, nothing to search out, it would leave humanity without a reason to carry on. Ignorance is simply the common enemy that has united our species, the thing that gives us _reason _and _hope_ and the will to find what tomorrow will bring us, to fight for the unknown that lies ahead.. It is our true strength. Once this is accepted, you shall know a strength within that you have never known that you had."

With that, the King stood, and glided down the small hill without so much as a glance back at the other man, simply leaving him in his own stunned silence to think about what had been said. Damn, that was annoying when he did that... and he seemed to always know when Tony needed some profound, almost crazy sounding advice. And hell, Tony appreciated it, more than he could put to words...But seriously, he just showed up, then left after. It was maddening.

Usually his wife, N'Yami would show up shortly after, give him a knowing look, and talk about something else with him for hours at a time. He glanced around. Nope, no N'Yami. Shit. Guess he'd actually have to think about this one without letting it fully sink in.

His mind, of course, veered, wondering vaguely if that was the kind of advice fathers gave to their children... He'd like to think so. And hell, if for some horrific reason he ended up ever having a child, he'd like to think that's the kind of thing that he'd say to them. As much as he hoped that day never came, he hoped just as desperately he wouldn't be as much of a fuck-up as a parent as his father had been to him. Damn, he hoped it wasn't genetic...

Shit, he wished Y'Nami were there to talk with him. She was rather clever in her own way, and reminded him of talking to Jarvis, just a bit. Not the AI, of course, but the real Jarvis. He couldn't put his finger on why, seeing as he only had a vague image of his old butler left to him before the man had died. He sighed and shook his head. Some things where just best left alone.

He allowed his eyes to drift back down to the machines that sat side by side down the hill, the smaller hunks of metal had been constructed in the shade of the reactor before it had been so much as halfway finished. He really had to admit, as crazy as these guys were, they sure got shit done. He just couldn't wrap his mind around that... Sure, not as quickly as it would have gone had it been an army of him, but still, damn faster than any other team of, hell, _anyone_ he'd ever met. Oh, the things he could do if he had that kind of help...

Na. They'd probably just end up disappointing him as time went on. Much better to rely on machines. If they failed you, it was your own damn fault, and they could be fixed. No hurt feelings. He missed his robots... wow, that sounded really strange, even in his head... and he really couldn't find it in himself to give a shit. At first, when he'd realized it, it had. It seemed that since he'd been away from Steve, the more he missed having someone constantly around to talk to without caring what he was really talking about. Which, of course, meant robots.

He'd considered trying to do so with T'Chaka, but dismissed the thought right quick. He really didn't seem to be much of a talker. With Y'Nami it just wasn't the same. Sure, she was clever, and would talk with him, but it was usually about her people, the land, things he really generally wouldn't care about. And damn, could she talk. And talk. It was almost as good as having some mind numbing music running in the back-ground.

Not that he ever ignored her when she spoke, he absorbed it all, just like his brain did with everything, but he just didn't have to put any conscious effort into it.

A flash from below drew his gaze back to the world outside of his head as the smaller machine burst into life, glowing happily in the mid-day sun. He sighed and stood. It looked like they were done... and he was about to be the test subject, he suspected. Not like they had any other random guy from the future they could mess with first. Not like this was the first time he'd tested machines, not even close..

Still, usually when he was testing something out, it was his own work. While he trusted T'Chaka's work, and his workers (Seeing as he'd gone over it as well when it had been finished and found nothing wrong that he could see).

He forced himself to relax as he made his was down the gentle slope, and came to a stop in front of the device with a friendly enough nod to some of the workers that he half-recognized from previous visits to the work-site. They smiled back at him as they collected their things, most of them going off to their homes, replaced by a different group who would be working the machine.

The Black Panther came up again to stand next to Tony almost too silently for a man of his height and put a clawed glove gently on his shoulder. Even within the safety of his walls, he never seemed to go anywhere un-armed. Without turning toward him and just a hint of sadness seeping into his voice, he muttered, "He won't remember, will he." He had spoken softly, but he knew that the cat-like ears had heard.

"No one will. Not outside of Wakanda, at any rate. Your presence will not be erased in this time, but all memory of you will be."

Tony shook his head, eyes narrowing before turning his head slightly towards T'Chaka. " How will they just forget? I mean, it isn't as if I just sat on my ass here, you know. How will they explain the things I did, the people I spoke to?" He must have made some difference in _someones _life, after all. He was Tony Stark, when all was said and done. How could he not have made an impact on anyone? It was simply impossible.

It was hard to tell, but the corners of the mans mouth seemed to curl up into the smallest of smiles "Simple. The memories will just attach themselves to someone else who was present in the memory. Mind altering is not fun work, Tony Stark, but it is, unfortunately, necessary in this case... though, I am sorry that this is the course of action that has to be."

The yellow eyes dropped to the ground, staring at the rocks and dirt as if they were alive. "Not every nation is prepared for such a thing as Wakanda is. I had begun to fear none may ever be."

The eyes shifted again, their gleaming intensity meeting Tony's own dulled ones, " You, however, do give me hope for the future. For all that you pretend you are above the people, that you do not care, I can read into your heart. You are a _good man._ One worthy of the friendship of Wakanda, the first of such in our history. Perhaps, in your time, the world will become a better place, and Wakanda can _welcome_ people into its borders and share our wisdom. Know that you always will be welcomed here."

The yellow eyes drifted out, over the open plains of the city's edge, quickly scanning before turning to the machine and stepped away from Tony, flicking it into power, before he could say another word. Not that he'd be able to, seeing as his throat seemed to think it had a mind of its own, and had closed up. He barely had time to nod solemnly at the Panther.

A brilliant white-blue light of the arc reactors power spread over Tony as the machine whirred into life and he felt himself being ripped away, as if ripped from the earth itself. The light continued across the world, reaching into the hearts and minds of everyone who had known of him, and gently snatched him away, tying loose memories tightly.

Even the frozen captain, unconscious at the bottom of the ocean, found himself quite suddenly _not_ in love with Tony, but instead with Peggy and all of the admiration he had for both of the Stark men went to solely Howard. If he'd been awake and been capable of realizing what had happened, he would have wept.

And when Tony snapped back to reality, on his knees, with a splitting headache in the middle of his lab rather singed, he was ashamed to admit that he did.

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** I hope you have enjoyed, and I have to give credit to RoosterTeeth for one of T'Challa's speech, as it was based on one they do. It's a huge pain in the ass, as it turns out, to post a link to youtube here, and it's too late at night for me to really care, so it you're interested in the original speech it's based on just look up Caboose Speech****... about the last part in the video... just don't ask. **


	18. When the past catches up(Short prologue)

**I'm posting this "chapter" at the same time as the last chapter because, well, it's not very long at all. I should be ashamed at how short the damn thing is... yet, I'm not, seeing as it's just about ending this story now and setting it up for a sequel that I've had planned since almost the start of this story. **

** Hope that some people reading this story will continue with me over to the next one, and enjoy it just as much. Will be up soon, called ****Sweet Whispers of Tomorrow,**** Which will be a longer story than this one.**

_" Every single night ends up the same, don't say much at all, but I bring up your name."_ All the Pretty Girls by Fun.

**Sequel in case anyone is interested : FanFiction(.net)/s/9258516/1/Sweet-Whispers-of-Tom orrow **

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For Steve, the worst part of the future was the crushing loneliness that had come with it, and the fact that no one seemed to care. About Captain America, sure, but Steve Rogers, not even a thought. For the friend of the brilliant Howard Stark, not an ounce. Well, at least not the good kind of caring, but at least Tony had acknowledged that the two had been friends, had told him how he'd searched for him for years before he'd died. Thinking of Howard being dead still struck him, every time he thought about it.

It would have helped if Tony had been willing to speak to him civilly about the man, or if he didn't remind him so damn much of him.

Shield had convinced everyone, pretty quickly, that it would be a good idea to move into to Tony's tower, even when it was being re-constructed after the fight. The Tower, as big and empty as it was, was surprisingly warm. It gave him a sense of belonging, of being wanted.

His room was designed and furnished within the hour he arrived all in warm tones, comforting and so home-like that his eyes teared up when he first saw it, but he only saw Tony once during that first week, and he doubted that the man had even acknowledged that Steve was there... he was pretty damn drunk.

He wasn't happy about it, but it wasn't as if he were Stark's baby-sitter. So, he tried to apologize, at which Tony giggled, but for the most part ignored.

The next time he saw Tony, he was sober, luckily, with a half-healed gash circling around his wrist that Steve didn't remember being there before. Must have happened during the past week, and just been not that bad. The shocking part about it was that Tony was actually _nice_ to him, never snapping at him, not poking cruel fun at him, just being there for him. For Steve Rogers.

He'd ask what his childhood was like, ask about his friend, Bucky, about little things that shouldn't have mattered. But they mattered, to Steve. Whenever Steve would bring up Howard, Tony would side-step the subject by distracting him with some gadget that Steve just _had_ to know how to use, or a movie he just _must_ see.

He particularly liked the Boondock Saints, even if it was distracting when Tony would laugh quietly to himself every time they said their prayer before killing someone, then quote along with the actors and Clint. After a while, he stopped taking about the man. Just about anything else, though, was fair game.

For talking to him, just talking, that alone could have made Steve love Tony. He finally started to heal, to move past fixating on yesterday, and hope for a tomorrow. A tomorrow that he knew that Tony would be there next to him, clever, comforting ear, gleaming smile and caramel eyes filled with lightning. It felt like being home again.

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**See, really short, but better ending, I think, than had I ended with the last chapter completely. I will start posting the new story soon, and post a link to here once I have it up, If anyone cares to look out for it. If not, thank you for reading. It's been a fun ride**


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